O'r nef mi glywais newydd Fe'm cododd ar fy nhraed Fod ffynnon wedi ei hagor I gleifion gael iachâd; Fy enaid, rhed yn ebrwydd, A phaid â llwfwrhau, O'th flaen mae drws agored Na ddichon neb ei gau. O Arglwydd, dwg fy ysbryd I'r ffynnon hyfryd, lân; Ysgafnach fydd fy meichiau, Melysach fydd fy nghân; Goleuach fydd gy llwybrau, A'm camre fydd yn gynt, Fe redaf heb ddiffygio, Ond teimlo'r dwyfol wynt. Fe gododd Haul Cyfiawnder Yn ddisglair yn ei rym; Gwasgarodd y cymylau, Ar ôl y gaeaf llym; Mae myrdd yn awr yn canu Telynau'r nefoedd fawr; Paham ma chanwn ninnau Delynau bach y llawr? Ti, Iesu, fo hyfrydwch Fy meddwl i'w fywhau, A gwrthrych pur fy nghariad I'th hoffi a'th fwynhau; Fy ymffrost a'm gogoniant Drwy hyn o anial daith, A'm cyflawn iachawdwriaeth I dragwyddoldeb maith. O Arglwydd, galw eto Fyrddiynau ar dy ôl, A dryllia'r holl gadwynau Sy'n dal eneidiau'n ôl; A galw hwynt o'r dwyrain, Gorllewin, gogledd, de, I'th Eglwys yn ddiatal – Mae digon eto o le.1-3: Dafydd William 1720-94 4: Dafydd Jones 1711-77
Tonau [7676D]: gwelir: Am graig i adeiladu Mae Salem heb ei llanw O Arglwydd galw eto |
From heaven I heard news It raised me to my feet That there is a fountain opened For the wounded to be healed; My soul, run quickly, And do not be fainted hearted, Before thee is an open door Which no-one could possibly close. O Lord, lead my spirit To the pure, delightful fountain; Lighter shall be my burdens, Sweeter shall be my song; Brighter shall be my paths, And my steps shall be swift, I shall run without wearying, But feel the divine wind. The Sun of Righteousness has risen Shining in his force; He dispersed the clouds, After the sharp winter; A myriad now are playing The harps of great heaven; Why may we not play The small harps of earth? Thou, Jesus, be the beauty My thoughts to enliven, And the pure object of my love To enjoy thee and possess thee; My pride and my glory Through this from a desert journey, And my complete salvation To a vast eternity. O Lord, call again Myriads after thee, And shatter all the chains Which hold souls back; And call them from the east, West, north, south, To thy Church ceaselessly - There is still enough space.tr. 2013 Richard B Gillion |
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