Mi âf trwy'r Iorddonen arw

(Gweddi am lwyr waredigaeth oddi wrth bechod)
Mi âf trwy'r Iorddonen arw,
  Anturiaf wrthwynebu'r don -
Pob temtasiwn gaffo'm nwydau
  Gan wrthddrychau'r ddaear hon,
Ond it sefyll wrth fy ochr,
  Ond it 'maflyd yn fy llaw;
Ti gei'r clod,
    ti gei'r gogoniant,
  Oll yn oll yr ochr draw.

Na'd y cenllysg i fy nghuro -
  Grym fy mhleser, a fy chwant,
Ac i yru d'Ysbryd sanctaidd,
  A'i awelon pûr i bant:
Gwna 'nghydwybod
    ynwy'n danllwyth,
  Na ddioddefwyf ddim o'r bai,
Ag sy'n gwneuthur oriau 'mywyd
  Fel rhyw oes o edifarhau.

'Rwy'n hiraethu am yr oriau
  Pan y caffwy'n nhraed yn rhydd;
Dyna jubil fy nghysuron -
  Dyna ngwaredigol ddydd;
Dyna wledd 'rwy'n brefu am dani,
  Pan na byddo pechod mwy
I ladrata'r meddwl lleiaf,
  Nac i roddi i mi glwy'.

Tyred, Ysbryd sancteiddiolaf,
  A glanhâ dy dŷ dy hun,
Lladd y beiau yn fy natur
  O'r boreuddydd
      sydd ynglỳn;
Dwg dy eiddo i maes o'r pydew,
  Minnau, ond cael myn'd yn rhydd,
A'th foliannaf
    tra fo anadl
  Am fy ngwaredigol ddydd.
1-3: William Williams 1717-91
  4 : Arthur Evans 1755-1837

Tonau [8787D]:
Eifionydd (J Ambrose Lloyd 1815-74)
Trefaldwyn (John Owen [Owain Alaw] 1821-83)

gwelir:
  Dyred Ysbryd sancteiddiolaf
  N'âd y cenllysg i fy nghuro

(Prayer for complete deliverance from sin)
I will go through the rough Jordan,
  I will venture withstanding the wave -
Every temptation which my lusts have
  From the objects of this earth,
Only stand thou by my side,
  Only seize thou my hand;
Thou will get the praise,
    thou wilt get the glory,
  All in all on the far side.

Do not let the hailstones strike me -
  The force of my pleasure, and my desire,
Or drive thy holy Spirit,
  And his pure breezes away:
Make my conscience
    within me a conflagration,
  I shall not suffer any of the fault,
Which is making the hours of my life
  Like some age of regret.

I am longing for the hours
  When I may get my feet free;
That is the jubilee of my comforts -
  That is my deliverance day;
That is the feast I am bleating for,
  When there will be no more sin
To steal the least thought,
  Nor to give me a wound.

Come, holiest Spirit,
  And cleanse thou thy own house,
Kill the sins in my nature
  From the dawn of day
      to which it belongs;
Draw thine own out of the pit,
  I myself, if I but get to go free,
Shall praise thee as long
    as there is breath
  For my deliverance day.
tr. 2015 Richard B Gillion

The middle column is a literal translation of the Welsh. A Welsh translation is identified by the abbreviation 'cyf.' (emulation by 'efel.'), an English translation by 'tr.'

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