Ode 3.

The divine love set alight your soul, quenched the love of the flesh and the dire heat of torments.

Cross-Theotokion

With all-powerful strength you destroyed the head of the hostile foe, O Martyr, enduring bravely the severing of your head.

The streams of your blood quenched the pyre of godlessness, watered the faithful with rivers of true religion.

You alone the source of good things for those on earth became Mother of God; and so we offer you our Hail.

Your Church, O Christ, rejoices in you and cries: You, Lord, are my strength, my refuge and my firmament.

Kathisma. Tone 5. Let us believers praise.

Your Champion, O Christ, nobly endured all the torments of the tyrants, trampled down the foe of many devices, was revealed as truly victor over him and received from you, judge of the contest, a garland of glory; and now she intercedes that we may be saved.

Show your speedy protection, your help and your mercy to your servants, O Pure Virgin, and calm the waves of vain thoughts and raise up my fallen soul; because I know, I know, that you have power to do whatever you will.

When she who gave you birth, O Saviour, saw you lifted up on the Tree, she lamented with weeping and cried aloud: Alas, my sweetest Son, I am wounded in soul at seeing you on the Cross, nailed up like a malefactor between two malefactors.