Noble champion of the Lord! Armed against idolatry! In thy fervent zeal for God Death had naught of fear for thee. Bound with thongs, thy youthful form Down the rugged steep they tear, Jagged rock and rending thorn All thy tender flesh lay bare. Spent with toil, the savage crew, Fainting, sinks with deadly thirst; Thou the Cross dost sign; and lo! From the rock the waters burst. Saintly warrior-prince! who thus Thy tormentors couldst forgive; Pour the dew of grace on us, Bid our fainting spirits live. To Thee, O Father, with the Son And Holy Spirit, glory be; Oh, grant us through Thy Martyr's prayer The joys of immortality.