Mae'n brawd wedi gorphen ei daith

Mae'n brawd wedi gorphen ei daith,
  Ei lafur a'i waith yr un wedd;
A Christ wedi talu ei ddylêd;
  Mae'n addfed i fyned i'w fedd:
Caiff gysgu hun dawel, nes dod,
  Ryw ddiwrnod, heb bechod, yn bur,
O'r beddrod, yn hynod mewn hedd;
  Heb ffaeledd, na chamwedd, na chur.

'Ddaw gwewyr na dolur, na dîg,
  Na gelyn, na pheryg' na phoen,
I'w flino'n yr
    ardal lle trîg,
  Y'nghwmni caredig yr Oen:
Dim achos i wylo ni wêl;
  Mae'n sicr ddïogel
      na ddaw
Dim oerni'n ei gariad, na'i zel;
  Mae'n dawel, heb ryfel, na braw.

Ymdrechodd hardd ymdrech y ffydd,
  Er uffern fawr beunydd, a'r byd;
Gorphenodd ei yrfa, mae'n rhydd;
  Gadawodd ei gystudd i gyd;
Mae bellach yn holl-iach mewn hedd,
  O gyr'edd ei
      lygredd, yn lân;
Dim tristwch i'w feddwl ni fydd;
  Hosanna'n dragywydd a gân.

              - - - - -

Mae'n brawd wedi gorphen ei daith,
  A gadael cystuddiau ' bob rhyw;
'Nawr esmwyth yw'r enaid fu'n gaeth,
  Mewn priddlyd garchardy yn byw:
Nid oes yn y galon ddim lle
  I gynwys na chystudd na chur;
Hi grynodd, hi gurodd yn gre';
  Ni chryna byth mwyach yn wir.

Y pen roir i orphwys i lawr,
  Ni theimla ddoluriau byth mwy;
Y ddwyfron - ddigynhwrf yn awr -
  Ni phoenir a gofid na chlwy'!
Ei ddrygu byth mwyach nis gall
  Cenfigen, na phechod, na phoen;
Ei dristwch hyn allan a ball -
  Caiff orphwys yn mynwes yr Oen!

gwelir: O angau/angeu mor dirion dy wedd

Our brother has finished his journey,
  His labour and his work just the same;
And Christ has paid his debt;
  He is mature to go to his grave:
He may sleep a quiet sleep, until coming,
  Some day, without sin, pure,
From the tomb, remarkably in peace;
  Without failure, or mistake or pain.

No pangs shall come, nor sadness, nor ire,
  Nor enemy, nor danger nor pain,
To grieve him in the
    region where he dwells,
  In the loving company of the Lamb:
No cause to weep shall he see;
  It is surely certain
      that there shall come
No chilling of his love, nor his zeal;
  He is quiet, without war, or terror.

He fought the beautiful fight of faith,
  Despite great hell daily, and the world;
He finished his course, he is free;
  He left all his affliction;
Henceforth he is whole in peace,
  Out of the reach of his
      corruption, completely;
No sadness to his thought shall there be;
  Hosannah eternally he shall sing.

                - - - - -

Our brother has finished his journey,
  And left afflictions of every kind;
Now easy is the soul that was captive,
  In an earthy prison living:
There is in his heart no place
  To accommodate either affliction or 
It trembled, it beat strongly;
  It shall never tremble again truly.

The head put down to rest,
  Shall never feel sorrows ever again;
The breast - unmoved now -
  Is not pained by grief or wound!
Never more able to harm him are
  Envy, or sin, or pain;
His sadness from now on shall fade -
  He may rest in the bosom of the Lamb!

How blest is our brother, bereft
  Of all that could burden his mind?
How easy the soul, that hath left
  This wearisome body behind!
Of evil incapable thou,
  Whose relicts with envy I see;
No longer in misery now,
  No longer a sinner like me.

This earth is affected no more,
  With sickness, or shaken with pain;
The war in the
    members is o'er,
  And never shall vex him again.
The lids he so seldom could close,
  By sorrow forbidden
      to sleep,
Seal'd up in eternal repose,
  Have strangely forgotten to weep.

This languishing head is at rest,
  Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immoveable breast
  Is heav'd by affliction no more.
This heart is no longer the seat
  Of trouble and
      torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat,
  It never shall flutter again.

              - - - - -

How blest is our brother, bereft
  Of all that could burden his mind?
How easy the soul, that hath left
  This wearisome body behind!
This heart is no longer the seat
  Of trouble and torturing pain;
It ceases to flutter and beat,
  It never shall flutter again.

This languishing head is at rest,
  Its thinking and aching are o'er;
This quiet immoveable breast
  Is heav'd by affliction no more.
Of evil incapable thou,
  Whose relicts with envy I see;
No longer in misery now,
  No longer a sinner like me.