Ode 6. The Irmos.

Of the Mother of God. Another Irmos.

Cross-Theotokion.

A final abyss of sins has closed round me and my spirit fails; but stretch out your uplifted arm, O Master and Pilot, and save as you saved Peter.

The trickster serpent led me out of Eden, tricking me with a trick of eating; but Christ, suspended on a tree by his own will, gives me back the ancient entry.

The one who wounded us has been wounded by your wounded side, and remains incurable, O Lord our Benefactor; but we the faithful have been cured by the bruises with which you were willingly wounded.

Of the Martyrs.

You appeared as wise in the midst of fire, Foot Soldiers of Christ, roasted like lambs and served on the table of God the universal sovereign, and inheriting ineffable gladness.

Drawing from inexhaustible treasuries, distribute rivers of healings and dry up the experience of the passions and water the gatherings of the faithful.

Seeing the death of the Word who became incarnate of your blood, All-Blameless, you bewailed him as a mother and magnified him as the cause of life, O Lady, Virgin-Mother.

I have exceeded the puffed up mind of the Pharisee, ever giving myself airs and plunging into the deeps of unnumbered falls; O only pure one, take pity on me who have been terribly humbled.

Your conceiving and your giving birth were beyond wonder. Now show me in my wretchedness the wonder of your mercies; for in lawlessness conceived and born, I have become enslaved to pleasures.

I lament and weep and mourn whenever I consider that dread judgement seat; for I have acquired evil deeds; Virgin Mother of God, who knew not man, stand up for me in that fearful hour.