More sympathetic than a mother there is none, and than a father more compassionate none; for vexed are their inward parts when they the babes accompany hence: great is the sting which for the children’s sake their hearts receive, and still the more when these sweet-spoken are, and they their words remember with the song, the Alleluia.
For oft beside the grave they smite their breasts, and say, O thou my son and sweetest child! hearest thou not thy mother what she saith? lo, ’tis the womb that thee hath borne: why dost thou speak not as thou wert wont to speak to us? But so thou silent art, even to say with us the Alleluia.
O God, O God, who callest me, be now the comfort of my house, for great the wailing is befalling them; for they all have regard to me, even they who have me as a sole-begotten one. But thou who wast of Virgin Mother born, refresh the bowels of my mother, and bedew my father’s heart, even with this, the Alleluia.
Then the condakion, tone viii.
Rest with the Saints....
Ode vii. Irmos.
The hebrew children in the furnace.
Refrain. Rest thou the babe, O Lord.
Write in the book of them that saved be, as lover of mankind compassionate, thy babe, that he rejoicing may exclaim to thy might’s glory, Thou art bless’d.