Irmos: Trampling down the fire and flame in the furnace, the divinely eloquent youths did chant: Bless the Lord, O ye works of the Lord!
Theotokion: O Virgin Mother who conceived the uncultivated Cluster which exudeth the wine of remission, remove from me the drunkenness of the passions, I pray.
Thou wast not afraid of the sword, O hierarch; neither wast thou daunted by tribulations nor terrified of death, all of which showed thee to be a partaker of immortal glory.
Thou didst show thyself to be a minister of the sacred mysteries, O Zenobius; and, having consecrated thyself, thou didst become a sacrifice of sweet savor fit for the banquet-table on high.
Thou didst shine forth radiantly, resplendent with miracles and the beams of martyrdom, O hierarch; and thou didst utterly dispel the gloom of falsehood.
Translated by Isaac Lambertsen. Edition menaion.en.lambertsen.