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Antiphon

σήμερον κρευμᾶται ἐπι ξύλου ὁ ἐν ὕδασι τήν γῆν κρευμάσας

Triodion, p. 401

6,6,6,6

32

I

Come, mortals, come behold!

He hangs upon the tree,

Who made the rolling sea

The new formed earth uphold.

II

See! He is crowned with thorns,

The King of angels great,

Who in His high estate

A glorious crown adorns.

III

Derided, see Him wear

A robe of purple dye,

Who robes the noon-day sky

With clouds that float on air.

IV

The Bridegroom of the Bride,

The Son of Virgin born—

With nails His hands are torn,

With cruel spear His side.

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