Irmos: Wherefore hast Thou turned Thy face from me, O Light never-waning? And why hath a strange darkness covered me, wretch that I am? But turn me, and guide my steps to the light of Thy commandments, I pray.
Theotokion: O most holy Virgin, Mother of the King of all, the Life and Resurrection of all shone forth from thee, that, having broken the power of death, He might as God save those who hymn thee.
Thy soul, O hieromartyr, was grieved when the time came for thee to be taken away by the rebels; but, having strengthened thyself by prayer in the temple, thou didst manfully go forth to them.
Irmos: In a vision Isaiah beheld God exalted upon a throne borne aloft by angels of glory, and he cried: O accursed am I, for I have beheld beforehand the incarnate God, the unwaning Light, Who reigneth with peace!
Theotokion: How can I fail to fear the dread felling, since I am a barren tree, wretch that I am? Make haste quickly to her who is full of grace, O my soul; for if she will not help thee, thou wilt never behold the never-waning Light Who reigneth with peace!
Going fearlessly among the band of rebels, arrayed in thy hierarchal vestments and holding the holy Cross, like a prophet of God thou didst boldly say: “Wherefore have ye summoned me, ye thieves and oath-breakers? Cease your stubbornness and evil, and the king will have mercy on you. I speak the truth! Ye may rely on me!”
Like deaf serpents thine enemies listened not to thy words, O holy hierarch Joseph, and, seizing thee, they tortured thee with fire and all manner of torments, and cast thee down from a great height. And, having mounted to the heights of heaven, O hieromartyr, thou guidest all who honor thee to the city of the saints on high.
Thou didst flower like a fragrant lily in the wilderness, O venerable Methodius, adorning thy soul with prayer, vigils and fasting; and, having lived angelically upon the earth, with the angels thou dost now contemplate in splendor the never-waning Light Who reigneth with peace.
Praying in the wilderness to Him Who is upborne by the angels of glory, O Cyril, thou wast prevailed upon to return to the Imperial City and adorned with priestly rank, that thou mightest show the way of salvation to men, illumining them with the light of doctrine and offering up the unbloody sacrifice to the never-waning Light Who reigneth with peace, for all.
Thou wast shown to be an inexhaustible well of wisdom, O God-bearing Cyril, when thou wast sent by the emperor to dispute with the Saracens, who blaspheme the all-holy Trinity; and they were unable to drown in the turgid waters of their false religion thee who art illumined from on high by the never-waning Light.
Translated by Isaac Lambertsen. Edition menaion.en.lambertsen.