Bugail y Briallu

Pwy yw bugail y briallu,
  Fwyn finteioedd
      ffridd a ffos?
Pa ryw lais a'u dysg i wenu
  Yn y rhewynt ar y rhos?

Pa chwibanogl fu'n eu galw
  O'u gaeafol hun mor bêr?
Hwythau'n deffro, yma ac acw,
  Mor ddi-sŵn
      a'r milmyrdd sêr.

Riniwr anwyl! hwn a'u tywys
  Ar ei ôl i'r fan a fyn:
Fyny'r llethrau noethlwm dyrys,
  'Lawr i encilfeydd y glyn.

Gofal dyn fu acw'n plannu
  Rhos-welyau plasty ffawd
Pwy a wisgodd â briallu
  Gloddiau gardd y weddw dlawd?

Gwelais ddoe, glystyrau'n dringo
  Ochrau serth y gledrffordd draw;
Rhuthrai'r trên fel taran heibio,
  Hwythau'n chwerthin ar bob llaw!

Rhaid bod bugail i'r briallu,
  Wasgaredig breiddiau mwyn;
Pwy fel Ef am ragofalu
  Fugail symledd, fugail swyn!

Hollbresennol dirion Allu,
  Ior y Nef! Ai nid Tydi,
Dad y gwanwyn a'r briallu,
  Ydyw Bugail f'enaid i?

            - - - - -

Pwy yw bugail y briallu,
  Filmyrdd preiddiau
      ffridd a ffôs?
Pa ryw Lais a'u dysg i wênu
  Gyda'r gwanwyn ar y rhôs?

Beth - ai'r gwanwyn dirion-wyneb,
  A'i fugeilffon yn ei law,
Sy'n eu galw hwythau'n ateb -
  Twrr fan yma, twrr fan draw.

Riniwr anwyl! hwn a'u tywys
  Ar ei ol i'r fan a fỳn, -
Fyny'r llethrau noethlwm dyrys,
  Lawr i unigeddau'r glyn.

Gofal dyn fu acw'n plannu
  Blôd-weliau palas ffawd;
Pwy addurnodd â briallu
  Gloddiau gardd y weddw dlawd?

Gwelais dwrr, pwy ddydd, yn gwênu
  Ar ymylau'r gledrffordd draw;
Rhuthrai'r peiriant dan weryru -
  Hwythau'n chwerthin ar bob llaw!

Rhaid fod bugail i'r briallu,
  Wasgaredig breiddiau mwyn;
Pwy fel Hwn am rag-ofalu?
  Fugail symledd, fugail swyn.

Holl-bresennol dirion Allu!
  Ior y Nef! Ai nid Tydi,
Dad y gwanwyn a'r briallu,
  Ydyw Bugail f'enaid i?

Who is the shepherd of the primroses,
  The gentle cohorts
      of sheep-walk and bank?
What kind of voice teaches them to smile
  In the icy wind on the heath?

What whistle was calling them
  From their winter sleep so sweet?
Waking them, here and there,
  As noiselessly
      as the thousand-myriad stars.

Beloved enchanter! he leads them
  Back to the place he wills:
Up the naked, troublesome slopes,
  Down to the nooks of the vale.

The care of man was there planting
  Rose-beds of a grange of happiness;
Who has dressed with primroses
  The banks of the poor widow's garden?

I saw yesterday, clusters climbing
  The steep sides of yonder railway;
The train would roar past like thunder,
  They laughing on every hand!

There must be a shepherd for the primroses
  Gentle, scattered flocks;
Who like Him for caring exceedingly
  A simple shepherd, a chrming shepherd!

The omnipresent tender Power,
  The Lord of Heaven! Is it not Thou,
The Father of the Spring and the primroses,
  Who art the Shepherd of my soul?

                 - - - - -

Who is the shepherd of the primroses?
  A thousand-myriad flocks
      of sheep-walk and bank?
What kind of Voice teaches them to smile
  With the spring on the moor?

What - does the tender-faced spring go
  With his shepherd's crook in his hand?
Calling them to respond -
  A bunch here, a bunch there?

Beloved enchanter! he leads them
  Back to the place he wills, -
Up the bare, troublesome slopes,
  Down to lonely spots of the vale.

The care of man was there planting
  Flower-beds of a palace of happiness;
Who adorned with primroses
  The banks of the poor widow's garden?

I saw a bunch, some day, smiling
  On the sides of yonder railway;
The engine roared whinnying -
  They laughing on every hand!

There must be a shepherd for the primroses,
  Gentle, scattered flocks;
Who like He for extreme caring?
  A simpl shepherd, a charming shepherd?

Omnipresent, tender Power!
  The Lord of Heaven! Is it not Thou,
The Father of the spring and the primroses,
  Who art the Shepherd of my soul?