(1)Gwaith hyfryd iawn a melys yw Moliannu d'enw di, O Dduw; Sôn am dy gariad fore glas, A'r nos am wirioneddau gras. (2) Melys yw dydd y Saboth llon, Na flined gofal byd fy mron, Ond boed fy nghalon i mewn hwyl Fel telyn Dafydd ar yr ŵyl. (3) Yn Nuw fy nghalon lawenha, Bendithio'i waith a'i air a wna; Mor hardd yw gwaith dy ras, O Dduw, A'th gyngor di, mor ddwfwn yw. (4) Ynfydion dëall hyn ni chânt; Fel 'sgrybliaid, byw a marw wnânt: Maent fel llysieuyn, têg ei wawr, Nes chwythech hwy i ddistryw 'lawr. (5a) Mae gwir lawenydd ger dy fron Yn ffrydiau pur i lonni 'mron; Ond mi gaf lawn ogoniant fry Pan buro gras fy nghalon i. (5b) Ond mi gaf ogoneddus ran, Pan buro gras fy enaid gwan; Mai gwir lawenydd uwch y nen, Fel olew pur i loni'm pen. (5c) Ar fyr caf ogoneddus ran, Pan bura gras fy enaid gwan; Fy holl elynion, cleddir hwy, A'm heddwch byth ni thorrir mwy. (5d) Ar fyr caf ogoneddus ran, Pan buro gras fy enaid gwan; Fy holl elynion, lleddir hwy, A'm heddwch ni thyr Satan mwy. (5e) Ond mi gaf ran o 'goniant frŷ, Pan buro gras fy nghalon i: Mae gwir lawenydd uwch y nen, Fel olew pûr i lonni 'mhen. (6) Caf wel'd a chlywed yno yngyd Oll a ddymunais yn y byd; A'm henaid a gaiff felus waith Yn y tragwyddol fywyd maith. (7) Tydi yw'r bythol, fywiol Dduw, Erioed y bu dy orsedd wiw; Sancteiddrwydd pur, a pharch dilyth, A weddi i'th Dŷ, O! Arglwydd byth. (8) I Dad y trugareddau i gyd Rhown foliant, holl drigolion byd; Llu'r nef, moliennwch ef ar gân, Y Tad a'r Mab a'r Ysbryd Glân. Melys :: Mor felys
Melys yw dydd y Saboth llon ::
fy mron :: mo'm bron - - - - - Gwaith hyfryd iawn a melys yw, Moliannu d'enw di O Dduw; Son am dy gariad fore glas, A'r nos am wirioneddau'th gras. Melys yw dydd y Sabbath llon, Na flined gofal byd ein bron; O na ba'i nghalon i mewn hwyl, Fel telyn Dafydd ar yr wyl. Pan dderfydd fy Sabbathau i gyd, A'm heinioes frau yn hyn o fyd; Dwg fi'n ddi-fraw i'th breswyl fry, I seinio clod fy Iesu cu. [CB] Gwyn fyd y llu o fewn i'r llen, Lle na ddaw'r Sabbath byth i ben; Le nid oes croes i weision Crist Na gofid byth, nac enaid trist. [CB]cyf. Dafydd Jones 1711-77 [CB]: efel. Caniadau Bethel (Cas. Evan Edwards) 1840
Tonau [MH 8888]: gwelir: Blodeua'r cyfiawn tua'r nen Melys yw dydd y Sabboth llon Moliannu'r Arglwydd da iawn yw Molianu Duw sydd hyfryd waith |
(1)It is very pleasant and sweet work To praise thy name, O God; To talk of thy love in the early morn, And at night of the truths of grace. (2) Sweet is the day of the cheerful Sabbath, May no worldly care afflict my breast, But let my heart be in tune Like David's harp at the festival. (3) My heart will rejoice in God, Bless his work and his word I shall; How beautiful is the work of thy grace, O God, As thy counsel, as profound as it is. (4) Fools to understand this shall not get; Like brute beasts, live and die they shall: They are like a herb, of fair appearance, Until ye blow it to destruction down. (5a) There is true joy before thee In pure streams to my breast; But I shall have abundant glory on high When grace has purified my heart. (5b) But I shall have a glorious part, When grace purifies my weak soul; There is pure joy above the sky, Like pure oil to cheer my head. (5c) Shortly I shall have a glorious part, When grace purifies my weak soul; All my enemies, they are to be buried, And my peace shall never be broken any more. (5d) Shortly I shall have a glorious part, When grace purifies my weak soul; All my enemies, they are to be slain, And my peace Satan shall not break any more. (5e) But I shall get a portion of glory above, When grace purifies my heart: There is true joy above the sky, Like pure oil to cheer my head. (6) I shall get to see and hear there together All I desired in the world; And my soul shall have a sweet work In the vast eternal life. (7) Thou art the everlasting, living God, Thy worthy throne has been forever; Pure holiness, and unfailing honour, Befit thy House, O everlasting Lord! (8) To the Father of all mercies Let us render praise, all inhabitants of the world; Hosts of heaven, praise ye him in song, The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Sweet :: How sweet
Sweet is the day of the cheerful Sabbath ::
:: - - - - - very delightful and sweet work it is, To praise thy name, O God; To talk of thy love in the early morning, And by night of the truths of thy grace. Sweet is the day of the cheerful Sabbath, May no worldly cares afflict my breast; O may my heart be in tune, Like David's harp in the festival. When all my Sabbaths pass away, And my fragile life-span likewise; Bring me without terror to thy residence above, To sound the acclaim of my dear Jesus. Blessed is the host within the curtain, Where the Sabbath never comes to an end; Where there is no cross for the servants of Christ, Nor ever any grief, nor a sad soul.tr. 2008,23 Richard B Gillion |
Sweet is the work, my God, my King, To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing, To show Thy love by morning light And talk of all Thy truth at night. Sweet is the day of sacred rest, No mortal cares shall seize my breast. O may my heart in tune be found, Like David’s harp of solemn sound! My heart shall triumph in my Lord And bless His works and bless His Word. Thy works of grace, how bright they shine! How deep Thy counsels, how divine! Fools never raise their thoughts so high; Like brutes they live, like brutes they die; Like grass they flourish, till Thy breath Blast them in everlasting death. But I shall share a glorious part, When grace has well refined my heart; And fresh supplies of joy are shed, Like holy oil, to cheer my head. Sin (my worst enemy before) Shall vex my eyes and ears no more; My inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break my peace again. Then shall I see, and hear, and know All I desired and wished below; And every power find sweet employ In that eternal world of joy. And then what triumphs shall I raise To Thy dear name through endless days, For in the realms of joy I’ll see Thy face in full felicity.
- - - - - Sweet is the work, my God, my king, To praise Thy name, give thanks and sing, To show Thy love by morning light, And talk of all Thy truth at night. Sweet is the day of sacred rest, No mortal cares shall seize my breast; O may my heart in tune be found Like David’s harp of solemn sound! Then shall I see, and hear, and know All I desired and wished below; And every power find sweet employ In that eternal world of joy. And then what triumphs shall I raise To Thy dear name through endless days, For in the realms of joy I'll see Thy face in full felicity.1719 Isaac Watts 1674-1748
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