Iesu dyro dy gymdeithas

Iesu, dyro dy gymdeithas
  Imi yn yr anial fyd,
Lle mae maglau ar ol maglau,
  Yn fy n'rysu bron o hyd;
Y mae hiraeth ar fy nghalon,
  Mae f'och'neidiau yn amlhau,
Am wel'd oriau 'ngwaredigaeth
 Ddedwydd, hyfryd, yn nesâu.

Mi ddych'mygaf clywa'i heddiw,
  Sŵn caniadau draw o bell;
Torf yn moli am eu golchi,
  Ac am bleser llawer gwell;
Oll yn wynion yn eu gwisgoedd,
  Palmwydd gwyrddion yn eu llaw;
Ac yn ddedwydd mewn gogoniant,
  Heb un gofid, poen, na braw.

Cân fy enaid, mwy bydd lawen,
  Minau ddof, er tonau maith,
Grym afonydd, llid gelynion,
  Cyn bo hir i ben fy nhaith:
Mi gaf orphen dyrys anial,
  Myn'd i blith y dyrfa fawr;
A chaf fod,
    heb ddim i'm blino,
  Yn eu cwmni uwch y llawr.

           - - - - -
           1,(2),3,4.

Iesu, dyro dy gymdeithas
  Nefol yn yr anial fyd,
Lle mae maglau ar ôl maglau,
  Yn fy nrysu 'mron o hyd;
Y mae hiraeth ar fy nghalon,
  Ac ochneidiau heb ddim trai,
Am weld oriau 'ngwaredigaeth
 Ddedwydd hyfryd yn nesáu.

Mae fy meddwl i yn crwydro
  Gant o weithiau i maes o dref,
Ac yn clymu â gwrthddrychau
  Gwâg, disylwedd, îs y nef;
Mae fy mywyd i mi'n ofid,
  Mae fy nyddiau i mi'n boen,
Eisieu cael fy holl ddifyrwch
  Yn dy gwmni, addfwyn Oen.

Ti faddeuaist fil o feiau,
  Beiau cynddeirioca'u rhyw,
Ac a guddiaist rhag y werin
  Rai fel porphor coch eu lliw:
Cliria fy nghydwybod euog,
  Càna f'enaid yn y gwaed,
A rho'r bai ag sy'n fy maeddu,
  A fy nryllio, dàn fy nhraed.

O! na ildia, f'enaid, ronyn,
  Er ei bod yn fỳr brydnawn,
Y mae trugareddau'r nefoedd
  Fel y moroedd mawriou llawn;
F'allai try deheuwynt tawel,
  Cyn machludo'm haul yn lân,
Ac yn lle rhyw drwm och'neidio,
  Câf fi seinio'r hyfryd gân.

Jesus, grant thy fellowship
  To me in the desert world,
Where there are snares after snares,
  Confusing me almost always;
There is longing on my heart,
  My groans are multiplying,
And seeing the hours of my happy,
  Delightful deliverance approaching.

I imagine I hear today,
  The sound of songs yonder from afar;
A throng praising for their washing,
  And for much better pleasure;
All white in their garments,
  Green palms in their hand;
And happy in glory,
  Without any grief, pain, or terror.

Sing, my soul, evermore be joyful,
  I too shall come, despite vast waves,
The force of rivers, the wrath of enemies,
  Before long to my journey's end:
I shall get to finish a troublesome desert,
  To go amongst the great throng;
And get to be,
    without anything grieving me,
  In their company above the earth.

               - - - - -
 

Jesus, grant thy heavenly
  Fellowship in the desert world,
Where there are snares after snares,
  Confusing my breast always;
There is longing on my heart,
  And groans without any ebbing,
To see the hours of my happy,
  Delightful deliverance approaching.

My thinking is wandering
  Hundreds of times out of town,
And clinging to empty,
  Insubstantial objects under heaven;
My life is a grief to me,
  My days to be are a pain,
I need to get all my pleasure
  In thy company, gentle Lamb.

Thou forgavest a thousand faults,
  Faults of a most wrathful kind,
And hast hidden them from the people
  Some like purple-red their colour:
Clear my guilty conscience
  Bleach my soul in the blood,
And put the fault which is beating me,
  And breaking me, under thy feet.

O do not yield, my soul, a grain,
  Since it is shortly evening,
The mercies of heaven are
  Like the great, full seas;
A quiet southwind could turn,
  Before my sun sets completely,
And instead of some heavy groaning,
  I shall get to sound a delightful song.