Irmos: Thou art my strength, O Lord, Thou art my power; Thou art my God, Thou art my joy, Who, without leaving the bosom of the Father, hast visited our lowliness. Wherefore, with the Prophet Habbakuk I cry unto Thee: Glory to Thy power, O Thou Who lovest mankind!
Theotokion: O Son of the Father, Who hast shown forth timelessly, Light from Light: In latter times thou didst issue forth from the Virgin’s womb, setting aright through Thyself all of Adam, who had come under death of old. Wherefore, truly honoring Thy Mother, we, the faithful, proclaim her to be the Theotokos.
Receiving the might of the Spirit, O father, thou wast shown to be invincible and tireless; and like a commander thou dost strengthen thy warriors, urging them to advance. Wherefore, though thou didst achieve thy victory without blood, thou didst receive the crown of martyrdom.
Irmos: I have heard, O Lord, the mystery of Thy dispensation; I have understood Thy works, and have glorified Thy divinity.
Theotokion: Christ the Lord, the King of all, loving thee as a divinely chosen Maiden, a scion of royal lineage, O Theotokos, wholly dwelt within thee, showing thee to be more exalted than the cherubim and the seraphim.
Consecrated to God, O Tychon, and observing His sacred laws, thou didst live, not as a hireling shepherd, but as one laying down thy life for the flock. Wherefore, having slain the wolves, thou hast nurtured the flock of Christ on life-giving pasturage.
The island of Cyprus doth truly cherish thine honorable memory, joining chorus with all the earth. And proclaiming that which is therein through the outpouring of miracles, it even yet calleth those who desire to see, that they may behold the garden of the all-glorious offshoot of the vine.
With torrents of tears thou didst irrigate the wilderness, O blessed one, sowing therein the seed of thy labors; wherefore, in joy thou didst reap fruit an hundredfold, crying aloud: Glory to Thy power, O Lord!
Mindful of the final day of this life, O venerable Tikhon, every hour thou didst prepare thyself for thy departure, adorning thy soul with good works, awaiting the arrival of thy Master.
O Tikhon our father, never cease to pray for thy holy monastery and hermitage, which thou didst cultivate with much labor, asking that they be delivered from evil circumstances and all manner of tribulation, that we may all unceasingly hymn thee as a solicitous father.
Translated by Isaac Lambertsen. Edition menaion.en.lambertsen.