1,2,3,(4); 1,2,4; 1,3,4. O tyn Y gorchudd yn y mynydd hyn! Llewyrched haul cyfiawnder gwyn O ben y bryn bu'r Addfwyn Oen Yn dioddef dan yr hoelion dur O gariad pur i mi mewn poen. P'le, p'le Y gwnaf fy noddfa dan y ne' Ond yn Ei archoll ddwyfol E'? Y bicell gre' aeth dan Ei fron Agorodd ffynnon i'm glanhau - 'Rwy'n llawenhau fod lle yn hon. Oes, oes - Mae rhin a grym yng ngwaed y groes I lwyr lanhau holl feiau f'oes: Ei ddwyfol loes a'i ddyfal lef Mewn gweddi drosof at y Tad Yw fy rhyddhad a'm hawl i'r nef. Golch fi Oddi wrth fy meiau aml eu rhi' Yn afon waedlyd Calfari Sydd heddiw'n lli o haeddiant llawn: Dim trai ni welir arni mwy, Hi bery'n hwy na bore a nawn. 1797 Hugh Jones 1749-1825 - - - - - O tyn Y gorchudd yn y mynydd hyn; Llewyrched Haul cyfiawnder gwyn O ben y bryn bu'r addfwyn Oen Yn dioddef dan yr hoelion dur O gariad pur i mi, mewn poen. Pa le Y gwnaf fy noddfa dan y ne', Ond yn ei archoll dyfnion e'? Y bicell gre' aeth dan ei fron, Agorodd ffynnon i'm glanhau; 'R wy'n llawenhau bod lle yn hon. Gwych sain, Fydd eto am y goron ddrain, Yr hoelion llym, a'r bicell fain, Wrth gofio rhain caiff uffern glwy' Carcharau tynion aeth yn rhydd, Fe gaed y dydd, Hosanna mwy. I'r làn, Os bydd in' dd'od o'r anial fân, Bydd hyfryd seinio yn y màn, Pawb yn ei ran yn moli'r Oen, Mewn melus anthem, newydd iaith, Ar ben y daith heb friw na phoen.1-2: Hugh Jones 1749-1825 3-4: John Roberts 1753-1834
Tonau: gwelir: Golch ni (Oddiwrth ein beiau aml ri') Gras gras (Yn genllif grymus ddaeth i maes) Gwych sain (Fydd eto am y goron ddrain) Mae mae (Y dydd yn d'od i'r duwiol rai) Pa le (Y gwnaf fy noddfa dan y ne')? Rhad ras (Yw'r newydd gân bereiddia'i blas) |
O remove The cover in this mountain! Let the bright sun of righteousness shine From the top of the hill where the Dear Lamb Suffered under the nails of steel From pure love to me in agony. Where, where Do I make my refuge under heaven But in His divine gash? The strong pike which went under his breast Opened a spring to cleanse me - I am rejoicing that this is where. Yes, there is - There is virtue and strength in the blood of the cross To completely cleanse all the sins of my age: His divine anguish and his persistent cry In prayer for me to the Father Is my freedom and my right to heaven. Wash me From my sins, manifold their number In the bloody river of Calvary Which flows today from full merit: Not ebbing, than it no greater to be seen, It shall remain later than morning and afternoon.
- - - - - O remove The covering in this mountain; Let the bright Sun of righteousness shine From the summit of the hill where the dear Lamb was Suffering under the steel nails From pure love for me, in pain. Where Shall I make my refuge under heaven, But in his deep wounds? The strong spear that went under his breast, Opened a fount to cleanse me; I am rejoicing that there is room in this. A marvellous sound, There shall yet be about the crown of thorns, The sharp nails, and the slim pike, While remembering those he gets a hellish wound Fast prisoners went free, He won the day, Hosanna evermore. Up, up If we shall come from the desert place, It will be delightful to sound soon, Each in his part praising the Lamb, In a sweet anthem, a new language, At the journey's end without wound or pain.tr. 2008,18 Richard B Gillion |
O rend The veil that hides the mount, and send The Sun of righteousness to end The night extended on the hill, Whereon the cruel nails He bore - 'Twas love outpoured, y pain to still. O where Shall I a refuge find but there Within the wounds that Jesus bore? The spear that tore so cruelly, A fount set free to cleanse my sin; O joy therein there's room for me! Cleanse me From all my sins which countless be, In that full stream of Calvary, That now flows free in fullest worth, And shall in undiminished might Outlast the nights and days of earth. tr. Rev. Robert Parry. - - - - - O rend The veil that hides the mount, and send The Sun of righteousness to end The night extended on the hill, Whereon the cruel nails He bore - 'Twas love outpoured, y pain to still. O where Shall I a refuge find but there Within the wounds that Jesus bore? The spear that tore so cruelly, A fount set free to cleanse my sin; O joy therein there's room for me!tr. Rev Robert Parry Cân a Mawl / Song and Praise 1918 see also: Remove The veil in this dear Mount of lovetr. Howell Elvet Lewis (Elfed) 1860-1953 Sweet Singers of Wales 1889 |