Glory.
O thou that art by nature good and loving-kind, and mercy willest, and a depth of loving-kindness art, his lot, whom, Saviour, thou from this ill place removed hast, and from the shades of death, appoint where shines thy light.
Both now. Theotokion.
A holy tabernacle thee we own to be, O Pure, an ark likewise, and breastplate of the law and grace; for pardon is bestow’d, through thee, on them, All-undefil’d, that have, by his blood justified been, who of thy womb incarnate was.
Deacon. Again and again in peace let us pray to the Lord. Vide page [142].
We begin the idiomela of John the monk.
Tone i.
What sweet of life abideth unaccompanied with grief? what glory stayeth upon earth unchang’d? All is the feeblest shade, all the most cheating dream: one moment, and death taketh all these things. But in thy face’s light, O Christ, and in the sweetness of thy beauty, grant rest to him whom thou hast call’d, as lover of mankind.
Tone ii.
Woe unto me, what agony hath the soul when it is from the body torn! alas, then how it weeps, and none is merciful to it! To Angels lifting eyes, without effect it prays; to men extending hands, it findeth none to help. Therefore, my brethren lov’d, musing on our brief life, let us for the departed ask for rest from Christ, and for great mercy for our souls.