|
Dychweledig yn Agos i Angeu.)
Fy enaid llawn tanllyd fyrfyrdod,
Sydd barod; mae ' nhafod mewn hoen.
O! nefol bencerddiaid,
ban cwrddem
Cyd byngciem yr Anthem i'r Oen,
Am fawredd,
am rinwedd fy Mhrynwr,
Am waed yr Iachawdwr
a'i chwys:
Dymunwn ar iddynt o 'mhoenau,
Fy nghario i'w freichiau ar frys.
Côf nefol o ganol gogoniant
Disgynant, cyd grymant,
gwir yw;
Clustfeinio i wrando ar wendid,
Yn canmol cadernid
eu Duw:
Coffhau ymdrechiadau'r Iachawdwr
Ac enw'r Gwaredwr sydd gryf,
Wna i feirniaid y nefol gerddoriaeth
Dra hoffi peroriaeth un pryf.
O Iesu, balm enaid dymunol,
I'n bythol wych hollol iachâu;
Ti nerthaist fy enaid o wendid
Ce's dan bo rhyw ofid barhau:
O! dwg fi i'th wyneb fyth yna,
I'r nefoedd i wledda'n ddi lyth;
A'th ddelw mi gaf fy nigoni,
A byw i'th glodfori di fyth.
O! nefoedd, mae anian i'm mynwes
Am fyw yna'n nes i fy Naf;
Cymdeithas y brodyr ysprydol
A'm Priod tradwyddol a gaf:
Angylion, angylion, chwi 'ngwelwch,
'R wy'n barod, danfonwch fi i fyw
I blith y llu dysglaer a thanllyd,
Sy'n llewyrch wynebpryd fy Nuw.
Parodol was'naethgar ysprydion,
Cylchynwch fy mherson fal mur,
Nes dêl fy Iôr anwyl o'r wiwnef,
I'm gwahodd i'm cartref o'm cur.
Ac er rhoi fy nghorphyn dros yspaid
Yn damaid rhwng pryfaid mewn pridd,
Rhagorach na'r haul yn dysgleirio
Byth, pan adgyfodo, a fydd.
Try'r haul yn dywyllwch du ollol
A'r lleuad rhinweddol dry'n waed,
A'r ddaear yn wenfflam ar ddiwedd,
Er cospi'r anwiredd a wnaed;
Tra rhuo'r elfenau tra thanbaid
I'm henaid dim niwaid ni wnair,
Myfi y pentewyn achubol,
Yn Nhanaan dragwyddol a gair.
Wrth ganu, hiraethu'r wy' weithion
Am adael trallodion y llawr;
Yn iach bob daearol flinderoedd,
'R wy'n myned i'r nefoedd yn awr:
Mae'r dwyfol wrthddrychau gogoned
Ar led yn agored i'm gŵydd:
Mae f'enaid yn suddo mewn syndod;
'R wy'n darfod â 'nhrallod yn rhwydd.
Yn iach ichwi 'mrodyr, mawr ydyw
Mraint heddyw
uwch pob rhyw wych beth,
Drwy farw, gan alw o'm Hanwylyd,
'R wy'n symud i fywyd di feth;
Anylion Duw hefyd a 'ngalwant,
Gwahoddant,
cymhellant fi o 'mhoen;
I adael fy ngharchar a ngorchwyl,
Myn'd i gadw'r wyl gyda a'r Oen.
'R wy'n myned, 'r wy'n myned i'r mwyniant,
Gogoniant uwch llwyddiant y llawr;
Pwy welaf ond Iesu yn estyn
Ei freichiau i nerbyn i'n awr?
'R wy'n myned, 'r wy'n myned am uno
Yn gyno i Dduw ac i'r Oen,
Gogoniant, gogoniant ga' i ganu,
Canys darfu fy mhechu a 'mhoen.
tr. 1815 Dafydd Owen (Dewi Wyn o Eifion) 1784-1841
[Mesur: 9898D] |
Converted Close to Death.)
My soul full of fiery meditation,
Is ready; my tongue is in glee.
O heavenly chief musicians,
when we would meet
Before we chanted the Anthem to the Lamb,
About the majesty,
about the virtue of my Redeemer,
About the blood of the Saviour
and his sweat:
I would wish for them from my pains,
To carry me to his arms hurriedly.
A heavenly memory from the centre of glory
They will descend, before they bow,
it is true;
Eavesdropping to listen in weakness,
Singing the praise of the strength
of their God:
Commemorate the exploits of the Saviour
And the name of the Deliverer who is strong,
I will, to the judges of the heavenly concert
While one worm likes sweet music.
O Jesus, balm of my desirous soul,
For my eternal, brilliant, complete healing;
Thou didst strengthen my soul from weakness
I got while some grief endures:
O lead me to thy face forever there,
To heaven to feast unfailingly;
And thy image I will get comforting me,
And live to extol thee forever.
O heaven, there is a nature to my breast
Wanting to live there near to my Master;
The fellowship of the spiritual brothers
And my eternal Spouse I shall get:
Angels, angels, ye see me,
I am ready, send me to live
Amongst the shining and fiery host
Who are radiating the countenance of my God.
Ready, serving spirits,
Surround ye my person like a wall,
Until my dear Lord come from the worthy heaven,
To invite me to my home from my beating.
And in order to give my body for a spell
As a morsel between worms in soil,
Better than the sun shining
Forever, when it rises again, it shall be.
The sun will turn completely to black darkness
And the virtuous moon will turn to blood,
And the earth to a conflagration at the end,
In order to punish the untruth that was done;
While the elements roar so fiery
To my soul no harm will happen,
I a saved firebrand,
In the eternal Canaan am to be found.
While singing, longing I am at present
To leave the afflictions of earth;
Whole, all earthly griefs,
I am going to heaven now:
The divine objects are glorious
Abroad, open to my sight:
My soul is sinking in surprise;
I am passing away with my affliction readily.
Hail to you my brothers! great is
My privilege today
above every kind of brilliant thing,
Through dying, by a call from my Beloved,
I am moving to unfailing life;
The angels of God also are calling me,
They are inviting,
they are urging me from my pain;
To leave my prison and my task,
To go to keep the festival with the Lamb.
I am going, I am going to the enjoyment,
Of glory above the prosperity of earth;
Whom shall I see but Jesus extending
His arms to receive me now?
I am going, I am going for me to unite
Completely with God and with the Lamb,
Glory, glory I will get to sing,
Since my sinning and my pain will pass away.
tr. 2015 Richard B Gillion
|
by an Indian near unto Death.)
My soul's full of glory,
which fires my tongue,
Could I meet with bright angels
to join in a song,
I would sing of my Jesus,
and tell of his charms;
And beg them to bear me
to his loving arms.
Methinks they're assembled
to hear while I sing,
Well pleased to hear mortals
praising their King;
O Angels! O Angels!
my soul's in a flame,
I sing in sweet rapture
at Jesus' name.
O Jesus! O Jesus!
thou balm of my soul!
'Twas thou, my dear Saviour,
who made my heart whole:
O bring me to view thee,
thou glorious sweet King,
In ages eternal
thy praises to sing.
O heaven! sweet heaven!
I long to be there,
To meet all my brethren
and Jesus my dear;
O angels! O angels!
I'm ready to fly,
With the bright flaming convoy
to God in the sky.
Sweet spirits attend me
till Jesus shall come,
Protect and defend me
till I am call'd home,
The worms my poor body
may claim as their prey,
'Twill outshine, when rising,
the sun at noon day.
The sun will be darken'd,
the moon turn'd as blood,
The world all on fire
by the vengeance of God;
The lightnings blazing,
the thunders will roar,
But this cannot daunt me
on Canaan's bright shore.
The prospect of glory
now breaks on my soul,
I sink in sweet visions,
and view the bright goal;
My soul, while I'm singing,
is longing to go,
This moment for heaven
I'd leave all below.
Farwell! my dear brethren,
the Lord bids me come,
Farewell! my dear Sisters,
I'm now going home;
Bright angels are whispering
sweet in my ear,
"Away to thy Saviour,
thy spirit we'll bear."
I'm going, I'm going,
but what do I see?
'Tis Jesus in glory
appearing for me;
I'm going, I'm going,
and soon shall be gone,
O glory! O glory!
'tis done it is done!
William Luboysan African converted by means of Methodist Missionaries at Gibralter see also: My soul's full of glory ... Sarah (Mrs. Tygnal) Jones, d. 1794?
My soul's full of glory ...
[Mesur: 11.11.11.11]
|
