Bellach, f'enaid gwan, anadla, Anfon dy ymbiliau fry A'th weddiau oll, yn wresog, O waelodion dyfnder du, At yr orsedd, Crist yw'r Archoffeiriad mawr. Hwn, fy enaid gwan, yw'r Ceidwad Ddaeth i geisio'r pell yn ol; Mae'n dwyn adref y colledig, 'N dychwel y crwydredig ffol: Canant iddo, Byth am waredigol ras. Ymladd a gweddia mwyach, Ymwrola dan y groes; Paid a dysgwyl ond gelynion Ar yr union ddyddiau d'oes: Neb ond Iesu, Nertha'r eiddil ar y maes. Tôn [878747]: Catherine (David Roberts 1820-1872)
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Henceforth, my weak soul, breathe, Send thy petitions up With all thy prayers, warmly, From the bottom of the black depth, To the throne, Christ is the great High Priest. He, my weak soul, is the Saviour Who came to seek the far off back again; He is bringing home the lost, Returning the foolish wanderer: They sing unto him, Forever about delivering grace. Fight thou and pray evermore, Be brave under the cross; Expect nothing but enemies On the upright days of thy lifespan: None but Jesus, Shall streng the feeble on the field. tr. 2023 Richard B Gillion |
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