Ode 4. The Irmos.

The shaded mountain Avvakoum foresaw as your immaculate womb, O Pure one; and so too he cried out: God will come from Theman, and the Holy One from a shaded, wooded mountain.

Christ, who of old made water spring from a rock for disobedient and disputatious people, make water, cure for thirst, gush from my parched soul, O God, washing me with drops of compunction.

Physician of the sick, heal the passions of my heart with the compassionate weight of repentance, fashioning a healing plaster, O Good One, and giving me strength of soul in your pity.

Of the Martyrs.

Freed from the yoke of the thought of sympathetic friendship for the body, O Champions, you handed yourselves over to those who wished to punish you, that you might be declared true friends of the Creator.

Foot soldiers of Christ, you endured many painful hurts from many forms of torture, and you received the grace from the gifts of the Spirit to drive from us the enduring pains of the passions. Theotokion.

Maiden of many titles, hail, from whom the Word was born, abolished the absurdities of our foul actions; hail Cloud of light who scatters the clouds of our despair.

Of the Forerunner.

Forerunner of the Lord, I beseech you, voice of the Word who appeared in the flesh, deliver from irrational deeds one who honours you with words and with faith fittingly calls you blessed.

Groan my soul, and cry to God your Creator: I have sinned, be merciful, O Christ, and deliver me from fearful punishment, from dangers and troubles at the godly prayers of the Forerunner.

As I drown in the many waves of fierce passions, and am storm-tossed and ever continually drowning, snatch me out, O Baptist, and guide me to the roadstead of salvation.

Mother of God, chariot higher than the Seraphim, with the immaterial Ministers, with all the saints implore Christ, whom you bore, to save me who am in despair, O all-blameless.