From the Canon for Sunday of the Second Tone.

8,6,8,6

Metrophanes of Smyrna, 910

triphenges Monas thearchike.

O Unity of Threefold Light,

Send out Thy loveliest ray,

And scatter our transgressions' night,

And turn it into day;

Make us those temples pure and fair,

Thy glory loveth well,

The spotless tabernacles, where

Thou may'st vouchsafe to dwell!

The glorious hosts of peerless might

That ever see Thy Face,

Thou mak'st the mirrors of Thy Light,

The vessels of Thy grace:

Thou, when their wondrous strain they weave,

Hast pleasure in the lay:

Deign thus our praises to receive,

Albeit from lips of clay!

And yet Thyself they cannot know,

Nor pierce the veil of light

That hides Thee from the Thrones below,

As in profoundest night:

How then can mortal accents frame

Due tribute to the King?

Thou, only, while we praise Thy Name,

Forgive us as we sing!