1,2,(3). Ti, Farnwr byw a meirw Sydd ag allweddau'r bedd, Terfynau eitha'r ddaear Sy'n disgwyl am Dy hedd. 'D yw gras i Ti ond gronyn, Mae gras, ar hyn o bryd, Ryw filoedd maith o weithiau I mi yn well na'r byd. O flaen y fainc rhaid sefyll, Ie, sefyll cyn bo hir; Nid oes a'm nertha yno Ond Dy gyfiawnder pur. Myfi anturia'n eon Trwy ddyfroedd a thrwy dān Heb olau a heb lewyrch, Ond Dy gyfiawnder glān. Mae swn y farn ddiweddaf Wrth dd'od o hirbell draw, Yn galw, Mynwch ddigon I ddal y ddydd a ddaw: Yng nghau bydd drws trugaredd Pan ddelo'r Barnwr mawr; Am hyny, O fy enaid, Dos ato Ef yn awr. y fainc :: Dy fainc nertha :: nerthai a heb :: ac heb
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(Gras yn werthfawr) Ti, Farnwr byw a meirw Agorwr dorau'r bedd, O gwel fy enaid egwan Yn disgwyl am Dy hedd: 'D yw gras i Ti ond gronyn, Mae gras, ar hyn o bryd, Ryw filoedd maith o weithiau I mi yn well na'r byd. O flaen y fainc rhaid sefyll, Rhaid sefyll cyn bo hir; Nid oes a'm cynal yno Yn unig ond y gwir: Y gwir a ddeil ei chwilio Y gwir wna'm henaid gwan I seinio iachawdwriaeth Pan fyddo'r byd yn dān.
William Williams 1717-91
Tonau [7676D]:
gwelir: |
Thou, Judge of the living and the dead Who hast the keys of the grave, The remotest boundaries of the earth Are hoping for Thy peace. Grace is nothing to Thee but a grain, Grace is, at this point in time, Some many thousands of times Better to me than the world. Before the bench one must stand, Yes, stand before long; There is nothing which strengthens me there But Thy pure righteousness. As for me, I will venture fearlessly Through waters and through fire Without light and without radiance, But thy clean righteousness. The sound of the last judgment is, On coming from yonder long distance, Calling, Insist on sufficient To hold the day to come: Closing will be the door of mercy When ever the great Judge should come; Therefore, O my soul, Come to Him now. the bench :: Thy bench strengthens :: would strengthen ::
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(Grace as valuable) Thou, Judge of the living and the dead The opener of the doors of the grave, O see my feeble soul Waiting for Thy peace: Grace is nothing to Thee but a grain, Grace is, at this point in time, Some many thousands of times Better to me than the world. Before the bench one must stand, Must stand before long; There is nothing which upholds me there At all but the truth: The truth will still seek it, The truth will make my weak soul To sound salvation When the world is on fire.tr. 2008,15 Richard B Gillion |
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