Dyn dyeithr/dïeithr ydwyf yma

Dyn dyeithr ydwyf yma,
  Draw mae 'ngenedigaol wlad;
Draw dros foroedd mawr tymhestlog,
  Ac o fewn i'r Ganaan rad:
Stormydd hir o demtasiynau
  A'm curodd i fel hyn mor bell;
Tyred, ddehau wynt pereiddiaf,
  Chwŷth fi i'r Baradwys well.

Ac er gwaethaf grym y tonnau
  Sydd yn curo o bob tu,
Dof trwy'r stormydd,
    dof trwy'r gwyntoedd
  Rywbryd i'r Baradwys fry:
Gair fy Nuw sy'n
    drech na'r moroedd,
  Gair fy Nuw sy'n
      drech na'r don;
Ac mi anturiaf oll a feddwyf
  Fythol i'r addewid hon.

Ac ni fyddai'n hir cyn gorphen,
  Ddim yn hir cyn lanio fry;
Pob gorchymyn, pob bygythiad,
  Pob addewid sydd o'm tu:
Nid y dyfnder fydd fy nhrigfan,
  Gwn y deuaf yn yman,
Ar ol fy ngolchi gan y tonau,
  Yn ddiangol iawn i'r lan.

Derfydd i mi garu ac ofni,
  Dim o'r nefoedd
      fawr i'r byd,
Pan y caffwi'r olwg gyntaf,
  Deced yw dy wyneb-pryd;
Gwedd dy wyneb sy'n dwyn bywyd,
  Gwedd dy wyneb sy'n dwyn hedd,
Gwedd dy wyneb ydyw'r cwbl,
  Yma, a thu draw i'r bedd.

'Rwyf yn dechrau teimlo eisoes
  Beraroglau'r gwledydd draw,
Gyda'r awel bur yn hedeg;
  Diau fod y wlad gerllaw:
Tyrd, y tir dymunol hyfryd,
  Tyrd, yr ardal
      sydd heb drai;
Dy bleserau o bob rhywiau,
  Gad im bellach eu mwynhau.

'Rwyf yn foddlon iawn i 'mado,
  Trefna'r awr, a threfna'r fan,
Ond yn ymchwydd yr Iorddonen,
  Dal fy ysbryd llesg i'r làn;
Na'd fi soddi tan y tonau,
  Pan bo angeu
      yn fawr ei rym,
'Mafael ynof yn dy freichiau,
  Nad i'm henaid ofni dim.

            - - - - -

Dyn dyeithr ydwyf yma,
  Draw mae'm genedigol wlad;
Draw i'r moroedd mawr tymhestlog,
  Ac o fewn i'r Ganaan rad;
'Stormydd hir o demtasiynau
  A'm curasant i yn mhell;
Tyred awel fwyn y deau,
  Chwyth fi i'r baradwys well.

A oes neb o'm hen gyfeillion
  A ddaw'n ddiddig gyda mi,
Ac a orwedd wrth fy ochr,
  Obry yn y ddaear ddu;
A yw cyfaill ddim ond hyny,
  Tywallt dagrau, newid gwedd;
Pan fo'r pridd, y clai, a'r ceryg,
  Arna'i'n cwympo yn y bedd.

gwelir:
  Blinais ar afonydd Babel
  Dyma'r byd y mae taranau
  Gwrando nghwyn Dywysog/Tywysog heddwch
  It' fy Nuw a'm Brenhin nefol
  Mae rhyw foroedd o drugaredd
  Nid oes neb o'm hen gyfeillion
  O Iachawdwr pechaduriaid
  Trag'wyddoldeb mawr yw d'enw
  Yn y dyfroedd mawr a'r tònau

A stranger am I,
  Distant is my native land;
Far across great tempestuous seas,
  And within the free Canaan:
Long storms of temptations
  Which beat me like this so far;
Come, sweetest southerly wind,
  Blow me to the better Paradise.

And despite the force of the waves
  Which are beating me from every side,
I will come through the storms,
    I will come through the winds
  Sometime to the Paradise above:
The word of my God
    which overcomes the seas,
  The word of my God
      which overcomes the wave;
And I will venture all I posses
  Forever on this promise.

And it will not be long before finishing,
  Not long before landing above;
Every order, every threat,
  Every promise will be on my side:
Not the depth shall be my dwelling,
  I know I shall come soon,
After my being washed by the waves,
  Truly undying to the shore.

Fading away for me are loving and fearing
  Anything from the great
      heavens to the world,
When I get the first look,
  How fair is thy countenance:
The sight of thy face brings life,
  The sight of thy face brings peace,
The sight of thy face is the all
  Here and beyond the grave.

I am beginning to feel already
  The sweet smells of the distant lands,
With the pure breeze flying;
  Doubtless that the land is at hand:
Come, the lovely desirable land,
  Come, the region which
      is without waning;
Thy pleasures of all kinds,
  Grant me henceforth to enjoy them.

I am very content to leave,
  Arrange the hour, and arrange the place,
But in the swelling of the Jordan,
  Hold my feeble spirit up;
Do not let me sink under the waves,
  When there is death
      with its strong force
Hold me in thy arms,
  Do not let my soul fear anything.

                - - - - -

A stranger am I here,
  Yonder is my native land;
Across the great tempestuous seas,
  And within the gracious Canaan;
Long storms of temptations
  That beat upon me far away;
Let the gentle southerly breeze,
  Blow me to the better paradise.

Is there none of my old friends
  That will come willingly with me,
And lie by my side,
  Below in the black earth?
Is there a friend only for this,
  To shed tears, change countenance;
When the soil, the clay, and the stone,
  Upon me fall in the grave?

Here I am a passing stranger,
  Far away my native land;
O'er the wide and stormy ocean,
  Where lies Canaan's happy strand,
Raging storms of strong temptation
  Drove me from my home astray:
Bear me, balmy southern breezes,
  To its verdant shores away!

Spite of waves and counter-currents
  Rolling o'er me from each side,
Through the seas
    and storms opposing,
  I shall stem the swelling tide.
Than the floods
    thy word is stronger -
  Stronger than
      the 'whelming wave:
All my hope I calmly venture
  On thy promise, Lord, to save.

Not much longer must I battle
  With the billows thus forlorn,
Land is nigh, each faithful promise
  Shews how nigh Salvation's morn.
Not the deep shall be my dwelling: -
  Joyful shall my spirit come,
When the seas have cleansed and proved me,
  To my loved eternal Home.











Yea, methinks I catch already
  Fragrant perfumes from the land,
Wafted by celestial breezes;
  Surely it is near at hand.
O could I its coast discover,
  Blessed country
      free from strife;
There my dearest friends are dwelling,
  There is everlasting life!

               - - - - -

In this land I am a stranger,
  Yonder is my native home,
Far beyond the stormy billows,
  Where sweet Canaan's mountains loom;
Tempests wild from sore temptations
  Did my vessel long detain
Speed, O gentle southern breezes,
  Aid me soon to cross the main.

Will not any old companion,
  In whose love I now confide,
Step with me to death's cold regions,
  And lie closely by my side
Can a friend show no more kindness,
  Than to weep and look aghast,
When the dust and stones together
  On my breathless corpse are cast?

also:
Here I know myself a stranger

Howell Elvet Lewis [Elfed] 1860-1953
Sweet Singers of Wales 1889