A raid i groesau fyth yn llyn?
A raid i gystudd garw'r groes?

(Ymddattod oddiwrth y Creaduriaid)
A raid i groesau fyth yn llyn
I ganlyn f'enaid 'bant a bryn?
  Rhyw beth bob awr i'm gwneud yn brudd;
Rhyw beth i soddi'm henaid gwan,
Yn union pan bo'm godi i'r lan,
  Trwy gydol faith
      y nos a'r dydd.

Mae'n debyg nad oes nef i'w gael,
Mewn un rhyw fath greadur gwael,
  Na man o'r byd i wneud fy nyth:
Y cyflwr b'wyf am ei fwynhau,
Yn dawel heb gystuddiau a gwae,
  'Does lonnydd i mi yno fyth.

Os ydwyt am fy nhorri 'lawr,
O dwrf a dwndwr daear fawr,
  Am rhoddi i orwedd yn y bedd!
O danfon waedd ar foreu ddydd,
O'm rhwymau mawr i'm rhoddi'n rhydd,
  I fyw byth bellach yn dy hedd.

Mae brodyr i mi aeth ymla'n,
Trwy ddyfnach ddw'r a phoethach dân,
  Ac etto gorchfygasant hwy:
'Dyw'r dyfroedd aethum trwyddynt ddim,
Mewn lled a dyfnder, nerth a grym,
  Pa ham yr ofnaf finnau mwy?

Fy enaid cred byth yn dy Dduw,
Na fydd anfoddlon
    tra f'ech byw,
  Yr ydwyt beunydd yn nesau,
I wlad mae cariad fel y môr;
Yn uno'r saint â'r seraph gôr,
  Trag'wyddol gydsain bur dddrai.

'Dwy 'nabod dim o'r nefol le,
Ond gwynfyd a f'ai ynddo fe;
  'Rwy'n caru pawb o fewn y wlad;
Y dymmer nefol, fwyn sydd fry,
Yn awr ddymunwn gennyf fi,
  Fy nghartref ydyw tŷ fy Nhad.

'Rwy 'nawr bron ar derfynau'r wlad,
Nad yw teganau cig a gwa'd
  A gallu 'demtio'm llygaid mwy:
Mae gwedd y rhai
    yr af i'w plith,
Fel Haul yn ogoneddus byth,
  Ond arall yw eu cariad hwy.

- - - - -
(Codi'r Groes)
1,2,3,5,(6);  1,4,5,6.
A raid i gystudd garw'r groes,
I ganlyn f'ysbryd ddydd a nos?
  Os rhaid gwna fi'n foddlon iawn:
Tan ganu gwna fi fyn'd y'mlaen,
Sef canu yn y dwr a'r tân,
  O foreu mywyd
      hyd brydnawn.

Pan 'drychwi i'r dwyrain faith
    neu'r de',
'Does neb yn anwyl fel efe,
  Mae'n gwnëyd fy ysbryd llesg yn llon;
Dyoddef golled o bob rhyw,
Yn mhresenoldeb pur fy Nuw,
  A holl gystuddiau'r ddaear hon.

Ar unwaith 'rwy'n ymado'n lân,
A phob eilynod fawr a man;
  Ac nid wy'n 'mofyn
      yn eu lle,
Ond cwm'ni f'Arglwydd ar fy nhaith
Mewn llawnder neu galedi maith,
  'Rwy'n drech
      na'r cwbl dan y ne'.

Danfon i mi'r Dyddanydd pur, 
Y golofn dân mewn anial dir,
  Sy'n ledio'r praidd
      o'r Aipht i'r nef;
Yr hwn a'i oleu perffaith sydd,
Yn gwneuthur nos yn ganol dydd,
  Fy holl ddyddanwch ydyw ef. 

Mi dòra'r c'lymau oll i gyd,
Sydd rhyngwy' a gwrthddrychau'r byd,
  A phob cariadau gwag y llawr:
Mi 'dawaf enwau brawd a ffrynd,
A châr a phriod anwyl fyn'd,
  Yn ddim er mwyn
      dy enw mawr.

Mae'th drugareddau maith eu rhin,
Yn d'od i lawr fel melys wîn,
  O oes i oes
      heb dranc heb drai;
Dy gariad sy'n anfeidrol 'stôr,
Yn gyflawn berffaith fel y môr,
  Ac yn dragwyddol yn parhau.
gwrthddrychau :: theganau
- - - - - 1,2,(3);  1,3.
A raid i gystudd garw'r groes, I ganlyn f'ysbryd ddydd a nos? Os rhaid gwna fi'n foddlon iawn: Tan ganu gwna fi fyn'd y'mlaen, Sef canu yn y dwr a'r tân, O foreu mywyd hyd brydnawn. Mae brodyr imi aeth ym mlaen Trwy ddyfnach dwr a phoethach tân, Ac eto gorchfygasant hwy: 'D yw'r dyfroedd aethym trwyddynt ddim Mewn lled a dyfnder, nerth a grym - Paham yr ofnaf finnau mwy? 'Ryw'n cofio gair fy Iesu mawr, Y doi'r Dyddanydd ata'i lawr, Na chawn i farw o dristwch mwy; O Dduw, cyflawna'th air i ben, Rho im' Arweinydd is y nen, Ddangoso'r ffordd iachao'm clwy'.
- - - - -
(Amynedd dan y Groes)
1,2,(3).
A raid i gystudd garw'r groes
I ddilyn f'ysbryd ddydd a nos?
  Os rhaid, gwna fi yn foddlawn iawn,
Tan ganu gwna im' fyn'd yn mlaen,
Yn llawen yn y dw'r a'r tân,
  O foreu 'mywyd
      hyd brydnawn.

Os trof i'r dwyrain faith neu'r de,
'Does neb yn ffyddlawn fel efe:
  Mae'n gwneud fy ysbryd llesg yn llon;
Goddefaf golled o bob rhyw,
Yn mhresenoldeb hoff fy Nuw,
  A holl gystuddiau'r ddaear hon.

'Dwy'n ofni ond yr afon ddu,
Sydd rhyngwyf a fy nghartref fry,
  Yr angeu glâs wnaeth fyrdd yn wan:
Fy enaid 'mafael yno'n llaw
Yr hwn ei hun aeth trwyddi draw,
  Ac yn ei law mi ddof i'r lan.
William Williams 1717-91

Tonau [888.888]:
Gweddi Luther (Martin Luther 1483-1546)
Rhosyn Saron (alaw Gymreig)

gwelir:
  'Does unrhyw bleser yn y byd
  Mae brodyr imi aeth ymlaen (Trwy ...)
  Mae dydd at ddydd yn d'od i ben
  Mi deithiais ran o'r anial maith
  O'r Graig y mae'n dylifo maes
  'Rwy'n cofio gair fy Iesu mawr

(Disentangling from the Creatures)
Must crosses forever stick
To following my soul to hollow and hill?
  Something every hour to make me sad;
Something to sink my weak soul,
Exactly whenever I am rising up,
  Through the vast whole of
      the night and the day.

It is as if heaven is not to be got,
In any kind of base creature,
  Nor place of the world to make my nest:
The condition I want to enjoy,
Quietly without afflictions or woe,
  There is no rest for me there ever.

If thou dost want to cut me down,
From the din and clamour of great earth,
  To put me to rest in the grave!
O send a shout at morn of day,
From my great bonds to set me free,
  To live forever henceforth in thy peace.

There are brothers of mine who went ahead,
Through deeper water and hotter fire,
  And yet they overcame:
The waters I went through are nothing,
In breadth and depth, strength and force,
  Why then shall I fear anymore?

My soul believe forever in thy God,
Do not be dissatisfied
      while ever thou livest,
  Thou art daily drawing near,
To the land where love is like the sea;
Joining the saints and the seraph choir,
  An eternal, pure, unebbing resonance.

I know nothing of the heavenly place,
But that blessedness would be there in it;
  I love everyone within the land;
The gentle heavenly temper, which is above,
I now would wish to have,
  My home is my Father's house.

I am now almost at the borders of the land,
The trinkets of flesh and blood
  Cannot tempt my eyes anymore:
The countenance of those
    I am going amongst, is
Like the sun forever glorious,
  But another is their love.

- - - - -
(Taking up the Cross)
 
Must the rough affliction of the cross,
Follow my spirit day and night?
  If it must, make me very content:
While singing make me go forward,
That is, singing in the water and the fire,
  From the morning of my life
      until afternoon.

When thou lookest to the vast east
    or the south,
There is no-one beloved like he,
  He makes my fainting spirit cheerful;
To suffer loss of every kind,
In the pure presence of my God,
  And all the afflictions of this earth.

At once I am renouncing completely,
Every idol great and small;
  And I am asking for nothing
      in their place,
But the company of my Lord on my journey
In fullness or vast hardship,
  I am mightier
      than everything under heaven.

Send me the pure Comforter,
The column of fire in a desert land,
  Which leads the flock
      from Egypt to heaven;
He with his perfect light is
Making night into mid-day,
  My whole comfort is he.

He cuts all the knots altogether,
Between me and the objects of the world,
  And all the empty loves of the earth:
I will let the names of brother and friend,
And companion and dear spouse go,
  As nothing for the sake
      of the great name.

Thy mercies vast of virtue are
Coming down like sweet wine,
  From age to age
      without failing or fading;
Thy love is an immeasurable store,
Fully perfect like the sea,
  And eternally enduring.
objects :: trinkets
- - - - -  
Must the rough affliction of the cross, Follow my spirit day and night? If it must, make me very content: While singing make me go forward, That is, singing in the water and the fire, From the morning of my life until afternoon. There are brothers to me who went before Through deeper water and hotter fire. And yet they had overcome: The waters I went through are not anything In breadth and depth, strength and force - Why do I fear any more? I remember the word of my great Jesus, The Comforter shall come down to me, That I may not die from sadness any more; O God, fulfill thy word, Give me a Leader under the sky, Who will show the way to heal my wound.
- - - - -
(Patience under the Cross)
 
Must the rough affliction of the cross,
Follow my spirit day and night?
  If it must, make me very content:
While singing make me go forward,
That is, singing in the water and the fire,
  From the morning of my life
      until afternoon.

If I turn to the vast east or the south,
There is no-one faithful like he,
  He makes my fainting spirit cheerful;
I will suffer loss of every kind,
In the dear presence of my God,
  And all the afflictions of this earth.

I fear only the black river,
Which is between me and my home above,
  Utter death made a myriad weak:
My soul take hold of him by the hand
Him who himself went through it yonder,
  In in his hand I will come up.
tr. 2009,23 Richard B Gillion
(The Daily Cross)
And must the cross attend my way,
And load my spirit night and day?
  Lord, if it must, make me content:
Help me to keep the end in view,
And sing through fire and water too,
  Until my span of life
      be spent.













































- - - - -
(The Daily Cross)
 
And must the cross attend my way,
And load my spirit night and day?
  Lord, if it must, make me content:
Help me to keep the end in view,
And sing through fire and water too,
  Until my span of life
      be spent.

If to the east
    or west I go,
None true like Him on earth I know,
  He makes my fainting spirit strong:
If His bright face upon me shine,
I can the world and self resign:
  My crosses then become my song.


























Oft I recall thy faithful love -
The comfort promised from above -
  The legacy Thou gavest -
      peace:
Impart from day to day to me
That peace, that comfort, Lord, and see
  That with my strength my cross decrease.
 
- - - - -  
And must the cross attend my way, And load my spirit night and day? Lord, if it must, make me content: Help me to keep the end in view, And sing through fire and water too, Until my span of life be spent.
- - - - -
(The Daily Cross)
 
And must the cross attend my way,
And load my spirit night and day?
  Lord, if it must, make me content:
Help me to keep the end in view,
And sing through fire and water too,
  Until my span of life
      be spent.

If to the east or west I go,
None true like Him on earth I know,
  He makes my fainting spirit strong:
If His bright face upon me shine,
I can the world and self resign:
  My crosses then become my song.







tr. 1854 Joseph Morris

The middle column is a literal translation of the Welsh. A Welsh translation is identified by the abbreviation 'cyf.' (emulation by 'efel.'), an English translation by 'tr.'

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