Around the tomb, Mary cried "Have pity on me!" for she was remembering you who made her, instead of a dwelling of demons, a dwelling of your love. She had bought spices to perfume your precious Body, by which the scent of our mortal race was perfumed. "By your Resurrection, O Good Lord of the deceased, I beg you, O Tree of Life, who raised Adam who has been passed over, O Fruit that our race did not want to taste, my Savior, may the dew of your mercies sprinkle me!"
[From the Basilica Hymn for Resurrection Sunday, in The Book of Before and After: The Liturgy of the Hours of the Church of the East, Fr. Andrew Younan, ed. and tr., The Catholic University of America Press (Washington, DC: 2024), p. 501.]
