King of miracles, King of powers, King of wonders, King transcendent. Thy throne doth fly and standeth still. Years very many, generations without end have passed Since thou didst drive the peg for the weaving of the web On which the perfection of the world and the excellence thereof do stand And even yet hath Thy throne not rested its foot upon the firm ground of the seventh heaven, But as a bird doth fly it fly and standeth still.
The loftiest of the lofty, they whose brows be bound with diadems, And all angels, the chief hypostases which Thou hast created, Stand harnessed beneath the throne of glory And do hold it up continually with strength, might and power. And they also have not rested their feet upon the firm ground of the seventh heaven, But as a bird do they fly yet stand still.