Ode 9. The Irmos.

Of the Mother of God. Another Irmos.

Cross-Theotokion.

The one who was prefigured in the bush and fire on Sinai to the law giver Moses and who conceived in her womb the divine fire unburned, the lamp all light and unquenchable, who is truly the Mother of God, in hymns let us honour and magnify.

That you might find the drachma you had lost, O Christ, you fixed your flesh to the Cross and you make us partakers with your Powers above, O Giver of life, with whom, as we hymn you as benefactor, in songs we magnify you.

As you lifted up your hands on the Cross, O Christ, you pulled up by your power my hands enfeebled of old by many passions, and you gave strength to my weakened knees for the godly course; and so we magnify you.

Of the Martyrs.

Burned by the flame of limitless torments, the brave and wondrous Athletes found you, O Christ, as a refreshing dew; therefore rejoicing they completed their course with their desire for prizes, as in hymns they unceasingly magnify you.

The multitude of the Athletes and the choir of the Saints implore you, O Christ, on behalf of a people and nation who have much embittered you, to wipe away in the multitude of your mercy, O Pitying One, the multitudes of our offences, as you love mankind.

O Virgin, you bore the Brightness of the Father, bearing a mortal form; the sun not able to bear seeing him raised on the Cross, grew black and the fog of the folly of idols was worsted; therefore with him we magnify you.

My mind is corrupted, my soul is corrupted, with wickedness I have been fouled in my conscience and I have been exposed as naked of any sort of goodness; but Virgin, blameless and incorrupt, do not despise me, but adorn me with works of true religion.

I am filed with wickedness, I am filled with thoughts that alienate me from you, Lover of mankind; and so I groan and cry: At the prayers of her who gave you birth receive me as I repent and do not reject me, Benefactor great in mercy.

May I be delivered by your prayers, all blameless Maiden, from all wrath, from death bringing passions, harsh Hell and fire, from unjust men, from evil foes; I who run to your protection and call on you for help.

As Mother of God implore the Lord, God and King, who was born of you, that you suppliant may be delivered from every threat and evil habit, for from my mother’s womb I have trusted in you, pure Lady.