Dros y bryniau tywyll niwlog, Yn dawel, f'enaid, edrych draw, Ar addewidion sydd i esgor Ar ryw ddyddiau braf gerllaw: Nefol Jiwbil, Gad im weld y bore wawr. Doed yr Indiaid, doed Barbariaid, Doed y Negro du yn llu I ryfeddu'r ddwyfol goncwest Unwaith gaed ar Galfari: Swn y frwydyr Dreiddio i eithaf conglau'r byd. Ar ardaloedd maith o dwllwch Twnnu a wnelo'r heulwen lân, Ac ymlidied i'r gorllewin Y nos o'r dwyrain draw o'i blaen: Iechydwriaeth, Ti yn unig gario'r dydd. Gwawria, gwawria, hyfryd fore, Ar ddiderfyn fagddu fawr, Nes bod bloedd yr euraid utgorn Yn atseinio'r nen a'r llawr, Holl derfynau Tir Emmaniwel i gyd. Hed fel mellten, bur efengyl, A gorchfyga oll yn lan' Bydded i'th gyffiniau eang Ymhelaethu fyth yn mlaen; A'th lywodraeth, Dros y moroedd maith i gyd. Byth i'r Mab y bo'r gogoniant, Hwn a aned erom ni; Ac i'r Tad, a'r Sanctaidd Ysbryd, Heb wahân, yn Un a Thri; Byth heb ddiwedd, Fel o'r dechrau, seinia'u clod. eithaf conglau'r :: gonglau pella'r
1-4: cyf. John Williams 1754-1828
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Across the cloudy hills of gloom, Quietly, my soul, look beyond, On the promises to be brought to birth On some days fine days at hand: Heavenly Jubilee, Let me see the break of day. Come the Indians, come the Barbarians, Come the black Negro as a host To wonder at the divine conquest Once obtained on Calvary: Sound of the battle Penetrating to the utmost corners of the world. On the wide regions of darkness Make the clean sunshine shine, And chase to the west The night from the far east before it. Salvation, Thou alone dost carry the day. Break, break, thou delightful morning, On the endless, great, extreme gloom, Until the shout of the golden trumpet The resounding the sky and the earth, All territories The land of Emmanuel altogether. Fly like lightening, pure gospel, And conquer all completely May thy borders be wide Extending for ever on; And thy government, Across all the wide seas. Forever to the Son be the glory, He who was born for us; And to the Father, and the Holy Spirit, Without separation, One in Three; Forever without end, As from the beginning, sound their praise. utmost corners of the :: most distant corners of the tr. 2008,16 Richard B Gillion |
O'er those gloomy hills of darkness, Look, my soul; be still, and gaze; All the promises do travail With a glorious day of grace: Blessèd jubilee! Let thy glorious morning dawn. Let the Indian, let the Negro, Let the rude barbarian see That divine and glorious conquest Once obtained on Calvary; Let the Gospel, Loud resound from pole to pole. Kingdoms wide that sit in darkness, Let them have the glorious light; And from eastern coast to western May the morning chase the night, And redemption, Freely purchased, win the day. Lord, I long to see that morning, When thy gospel shall abound, And thy grace get full possession Of the happy promised ground; All the borders Of the great Immanuel's land. Fly abroad, thou mighty Gospel, Win and conquer, never cease; May thy lasting wide dominions Multiply and still increase; Sway thy sceptre, Saviour! all the world around. [May the glorious day approaching, On their grossest darkness dawn, And the everlasting Gospel, Spread abroad Thy holy Name, All the borders Of the great Immanuel's land.] Blessèd jubilee! :: Blessèd Jubil! thou mighty :: eternal Sway thy sceptre :: May thy sceptre Saviour! all the world :: Sway the enlightened world
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