Ode 5. Irmos.

Of the Forerunner. Another Irmos.

**Theotokion.**

Come, take pity on my wretched soul, fighting a night battle with the darkness of the passions, and make beams bright as day shine in me, O spiritual Sun, to part the light and darkness.

There is no salvation in me from works, for many are the sins I have committed on earth, wretch that I am, and I tremble at your dread tribunal, O God, when you are going to condemn the transgressors of your commandments.

How I have I lost my senses? How become darkened through doing evil? How have I not understood the fear of you,? but have bent down to earth and become like many beasts? Turn me back, O God of all.

Of the Martyrs.

The cloud of the Martyrs scattered the clouds of bitter tortures and made the day of true knowledge dawn; they dispelled the fog of polytheism and reached the unsetting light.

Hallow my mind at the prayers of your holy Martyrs, O Christ, I beg, and make it full of illumination and a partaker of eternal glory, that with hymns of glory I may sing your praise.

By an ineffable word, O Virgin Mother, you bore God who through your loving mediation gives repentance to us all, who have much offended, O refuge and haven of the faithful.

To you I rise at dawn.

A barren womb gave you birth, O Forerunner, who summon barren hearts, making them bear fair children by your fertile words; and so we call you blessed.

You flowered as a sweet-scented lily in the wilderness, honoured Saint; and so I cry out to you: Forerunner, chase from my soul the foul stench of evil.

You stand between law and grace; and so I cry: Forerunner, take pity on me, wounded by the law of sin and miserably endangered.

Gate of glory through which none may pass, open to me, O Immaculate, the gates of repentance which introduce me to divine entrances and rest within.