Mae'r ffynnon heb ei chau, Sy'n golchi'r ffiaidd rai, Mae croeso yn hon, i bawb yn 11on, I gael eu llwyr lanhau; Ceir gweled llu, o'r Negroes du, Oll wedi eu cànu'n lân: Mewn ffynnon lawn, o ddwyfol ddawn, Ein golchi gawn, yn hyfryd iawn, Fîl myrdd fel eira mân. Un aberth mwy nid oes, Ond Iesu fu ar y groes, Iachawdwr rhad, trwy rin ei waed, Rhydd i'm ryddhad o'm loes: Mae'n gadarn Ior, a'i ras yn stor, Fel môr o drysor drud; Ac ato ef, sy' ar orsedd nef, Dyrchafa'm llef, am gymhorth gref, I goncro meiau i gyd. Fy unig noddfa yw, Yr Oen mae'n Geidwad gwiw, Fe gollai ei waed, rhydd lwyr iachad, O'i rad i ddynolryw: Ei nerth a gâf, pa elyn saf? O flaen fy Naf o'r nef; Caf yn y man, er bod yn wan, Yr hyfryd lan, yn rhwydd a'm rhan, Yn gyfan gydag ef. Ior cynnal f'enaid gwan, Trwy'r moroedd mawr i'r lan, Yn mlaen o hyd, er cnawd a byd, I forio i'r hyfryd fan: Cael Manna wrth raid, a'r dwfr dibaid, Gwledd dawel fy enaid yw; A phrofi'th hedd, effeithiol wledd, A'th hyfryd wedd, tu yma i'r bedd, Hyn yw 'nigonedd gwiw. - - - - - Mae'r ffynon yn ddi-drai, A olch yr aflan rai, Mae lle yn hon i bawb o'r bron I gael eu llwyr lanhau; Ceir gweled llu o'r dynion dû Oll wedi en cànu'n wỳn, Trwy rinwedd gras yr afon las, Bereiddia'i blas, a darddodd ma's Ar ben Calfaria fryn. Hosanna heb dewi son, O fawl i'r anwyl O'n, Am fod ar ràn fy enaid gwàn A myned dan fy mho'n; Trwy dalu i lawr y dyled mawr, Mae'r nef a'r llawr yn un, Yn canmol gras melysa'i flas Eginyn bras a dyfodd ma's O'r Duwdod yn y dyn.Grawnsypiau Canaan 1795
Tonau [668.686.886]: gwelir: Fy unig noddfa yw |
The well has not been closed, Which is washing the detestable ones, There is a welcome in this, to everyone cheerfully, To get completely cleansed; A host may be seen, of black Negroes, All having been bleached clean: In a well full of divine merit, We may get washed, very delightfully, A thousand myriads like fine snow. No more sacrifice is there, But Jesus who was on the cross, A gracious Saviour, through the merit of his blood, Gives me freedom from my anguish: He is a firm Lord, with his grace in store, Like a sea of precious treasure; And to him, who is on heaven's throne, I raise my cry, for strong help, To conquer all my faults. My only refuge he is, The Lamb he is a worthy Saviour, He shed his blood, he gives complete healing, From his graciousness to humankind: His strength I shall have, what enemy shall stand? Before my Master from heaven; I shall get in a while, although weak, The delightful shore, freely and as my portion, Wholly with him. Lord, hold my weak soul, Up through the great seas, Onward still, despite flesh and world, To voyage to the delightful spot: To get Manna at need, and the unceasing water, Is the quiet feast of my soul; And to experience thy peace, an effective feast, And thy delightful countenance, this side of the grave, This is my worthy sufficiency. - - - - - The fount is unebbing, That washes the unclean ones, In it a place for absolutely everyone To get themselves complete cleansed; A host of black men are to be seen All having been bleached white, Through the merit of the grace of the blue river, Of sweetest taste, that issued out On the summit of Calvary. Hosanna without ceasing to sound, Praise to the dear Lamb, For being on the side of my weak soul And going under my pain; Through paying down the great debt, Heaven and earth as as one, Extolling the grace of sweetest taste A rough shoot that grew out Of the Godhead in the man.tr. 2019 Richard B Gillion |
|