Syr Harri Ddu

    Y mae yn nhŷ Syr Harri Ddu,
      Delyn aur â thannau rhawn;
    Telyn hen y teulu
         glywir yno'n canu,
      A phenillion bob prynhawn;
Hen benillion oesol, nwyfus melys mwyn,
  Hen alawon annwyl yn ei symyl swyn.
Hen arferion gwledig
    gŵr bonheddig hael,
  Gan Syr Harri maent i'w cael.

    Boneddwr cu yw Harri Ddu,
      Hoff o'i wlad a hoff o'i iaith:
    Ar doriad dydd bob bore bydd
      Gyda'r gweision yn eu gwaith,
Heinif yn ei henaint, heddiw fel erioed;
  Ysgafn yw ei galon, ysgafn yw ei droed;
Dyma'r dôn chwaraeai'r
      Delyn yn ei dŷ -
  "Hir os i Syr Harri Ddd."

gwelir: Syr Harri Ddu (Tudno)

    In Black Sir Harry's house is,
      A gold harp with strings of hair;
    The old harp of the family
        is to be heard there playing,
      And verses every afternoon;
Age-old verses, lusty, sweet, gentle,
  Old, beloved airs in its simple charm.
The old rustic practices
    of a noble, generous man,
  From Sir Harry they are to be got.

  A dear gentleman is Black Harry,
    Fond of his land and fond of his language:
  At break of day every morning he is
    With the servants in their work,
Sprightly in his old age, today as ever;
  Light is his heart, light is his foot;
This is the tune the Harp
    would play in his house -
  "Long life to Black Sir Harry."