Dy deyrnas doed O Dduw

Thy kingdom come O God

Dy deyrnas doed, O! Dduw,
Boed Crist yn llyw yn awr;
  Â'th wialen haearn tor
  Holl ormes uffern fawr.

Ple mae brenhiniaeth hedd,
A'r wledd o gariad byw?
  Pryd derfydd dicter du,
  Fel fry yng ngwyddfod Duw?

Pryd daw yr hyfryd ddydd
Pan na bydd brwydyr lem,
  A thrawster a phob gwanc
  Yn dianc rhag dy drem?

Gwatwarant d'enw mawr,
Difrodant 'n awr dy ŵyn;
  Gweithredoedd llawn o warth
  Sy'n darth dros gariad mwyn.

Ein gweddi beunydd yw, 
Doed Duw yn ei holl rym,
  I nerthu'r enaid gwan
  O dan ddrycinoedd llym.

Dros diroedd maith di-ffydd
Y caddug sydd o hyd;
  Tyrd, seren wen y wawr,
  Goleua'r llawr i gyd.
cyf. D Lloyd George 1863-1945

Tôn [6666]: St Cecilia (Leighton G Hayne 1836-83)

May thy kingdom come, O God!
May Christ be governor now;
  With thy rod of iron break
  All the oppression of great hell!

Where is the kingship of peace,
And the feast of living love?
  When with black anger pass away,
  As above in the presence of God?

When will come the delightful day
When there will be no sharp battle,
  And tyrrany and every lust
  Escaping from thy gaze?

They mock thy great name,
They damage now thy lambs;
  Activities full of disgrace
  Are a mist across gentle love.

Our daily prayer is,
May God come in all his force,
  To strengthen the weak soul
  Under sharp storms.

Over vast lands without faith
The fog which is still there;
  Come, bright star of the dawn,
  Light all the earth.
tr. 2016 Richard B Gillion
Thy kingdom come, O God,
  Thy rule, O Christ, begin;
Break with Thine iron rod
  The tyrannies of sin.

Where is Thy reign of peace,
  And purity, and love?
When shall all hatred cease,
  As in the realms above?

When comes the promised time
  That war shall be no more -
Oppression, lust, and crime,
  Shall flee Thy face before?

We pray Thee, Lord, arise,
  And come in Thy great might;
Revive our longing eyes,
  Which languish for Thy sight.

Men scorn Thy sacred name,
  And wolves devour Thy fold;
By many deeds of shame
  We learn that love grows cold.

O’er heathen lands afar
  Thick darkness broodeth yet:
Arise, O Morning Star,
  Arise, and never set!
Lewis Hensley 1824-1905

Tune [6666]: St Cecilia (Leighton G Hayne 1836-83)

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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