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1,2,3,4,(5,6,7,8); 1,2,3,(4),6.
Nid oes un gwrthddrych yn y byd
Yn deilwng o fy serch a mryd,
Mae tynfa'm henaid canaid cu
At drysor trag'wyddoldeb frŷ.
Pe cawn y byd i gyd yn grwn,
A byw flynyddau fil yn hwn,
Ni byddai ond
torf o ofidiau'n un,
Heb gaffael heddwch Duw ei hun.
Beth dâl im' roi fy serch a mryd
Ar ddim a welais yn y hyd:
Da, daear, dyn, pa gysur yw,
Y dydd y dêl digofaint Duw?
Pan byddwi'n wyneb angau du
Heb gael ond cefn pob cyfaill cu;
Pryd hyn pwy helpa'm henaid gwan
O'r hen Iorddonen fawr i'r lann?
O'r dywyll wlad pan fyddwi'n myn'd,
Fy Iesu bydd fy ffyddlawn ffrynd;
Pa frawd, pa chwaer,
pa gyfaill gwell,
A'm hebrwng i'r ardaloedd pell?
P'am carai'r byd
a'i dda yn hwy,
Ond dyma wrthddrych llawer mwy?
A dâl ei garu tra
ynof chwyth,
A thragwyddoldeb wedi'n byth.
O cofia fi pan bwi'n y bêdd,
A chasgla'm llwch i'r lan mewn hedd;
O arddel fi'n y farn a ddaw,
A gosod fi ar dy ddeheu-law.
Ffarwel deganau gwag y byd,
A'r holl ofidiau sy ynddo i gyd;
Tu ag adre'r âf er dw'r a than,
Mae swn fy mrodyr o fy mlaen.
- - - - -
Nid oes un gwrthddrych yn y byd,
Yn deilwng o fy serch a 'mryd
Mae tynfa f'enaid canaid cu
At drysor tragwyddoldeb fry.
Pe cawn y byd i gyd yn grwn,
A byw flynyddau fil yn hwn,
Ni fyddai hwn ond gofid blin,
Heb gaffael ffafor Duw ei hun.
Wrth fyned trwy borth angeu du,
Dan ymladd â gelynion lu,
Ni thycia cyfoeth bri,
na gwaed,
Na brawd, na phriod, mam, na thad.
Fy Iesu garaf bellach mwy,
Dyoddefodd trosof farwol glwy';
Fy Mhrïod hynod yw o hyd,
A'm Cyfaill goreu yn y byd.
Duw yw efe i'm dwyn yn mlaen
Trwy ddyfroedd mawr a fflamau tân:
O'r nefoedd fry
rhydd i mi nerth
I ddringo creigydd mawrion serth.
Pan syrthio'r sêr fel ffigys îr,
Pan ferwo'r môr, pan losgo'r tir,
Pan dröer yr haul a'r lloer yn ddu,
Pryd hyn mi gara 'Mhrynwr cu.
Doed fel y dêl,
mi a'i cara o hyd,
Dan bob rhyw drallod yn y byd,
Yn nydd y farn, yn angau chwith,
Mi a'i caraf yn y nefoedd byth.
Er temtasiynau filoedd myrdd,
Caf delyn aur a phlmwydd gwyrdd,
A gwisgo'n gysson goron gun
Rydd ar fy mhen â'i law ei hun.
a 'mryd :: a mryd :: a'm bryd :: o'm bryd ffafor :: heddwch Fy Iesu garaf :: Wel, Iesu garai bellach mwy :: yn ddi-lai Dyoddefodd trosof farwol glwy' :: Efe a'm gwared i o'm gwae; syrhtio :: syrthia Mi a'i caraf :: Fe'i caraf
Tonau [MH 8888]:
gwelir: |
There is not one object in the world
Worthy of my affection and my heart,
There is a pull of my dear, cleansed soul
To eternal treasure above.
If I had all the world round,
And lived a thousand years in it,
It would only be
a multitude of griefs as one,
Without having God's own peace.
What keeps me putting my affection and heart
On anything I have seen in the world:
Goods, earth, man, what comfort are they,
On the day in which God's wrath will come?
when I face black death
Having only the back of every dear friend;
Then who will help my weak soul
From the old great Jordan to the shore?
From the dark land when I am going,
My Jesus, be my faithful friend!
What brother, what sister,
what better companion,
Will escort me to the distant regions?
Why should I love the world
and it goods any more,
But here is an object much greater?
To keep loving while
there is breath in me,
And eternity after forever.
O remember me when I am in the grave,
And gather my dust up in peace;
O own me in the coming judgment,
And set me at thy right hand!
Farewell, empty trinkets of the world,
And all the griefs that are in it;
Towards home I go despite water and fire,
The sound of my brothers is ahead of me.
- - - - -
There is not one object in the world
Worthy of my affection and my heart,
There is a pull of my dear, cleansed soul
To eternal treasure above.
If I had all the world round,
And lived a thousand years in it,
This would only be a wearisome grief,
Without having God's own favour.
On going through the portal of black death,
under attack by a host of enemies,
Neither wealth of honour,
nor blood will prevail,
Nor brother, nor spouse, mother or father.
My Jesus will I love henceforth evermore,
He suffered for me a mortal wound;
My notable Spouse he is still,
And my best friend in the world.
God is he to lead me forward
Through great waters and flames of fire:
From the heavens above
he will give me strength
To climb great steep rocks.
When the stars fall like fresh figs,
When the sea boils, when the land burns,
When the sun and moon are turned black,
Then I will love my dear Redeemer.
Let it come as it may,
I will love him still,
Under every kind of trouble in the world,
In the day of judgment, in awkward death,
I will love him in the heavens forever.
Despite a myriad thousand temptations,
I will get a golden harp and green palms,
And to wear constantly a dear crown
Put on my head by his own hand.
and my heart :: and my heart :: of my heart favour :: peace My Jesus :: Now, Jesus henceforth evermore :: without fail He suffered for me a mortal wound :: He delivers me from my woe :: :: tr. 2010 Richard B Gillion |
No object here of any kind
Is able to inflame my mind;
My whole affections and my love
Have fix'd on objects far above.
Had I the world to rule alone,
And all it's wealth and joys in one,
To trace its empty
pleasures o'er
A thousand rolling years and more,
All would be but a fleeting rest,
While conscience burneth in my breast,
But mercy and grace forgiving sin
Create a lasting feast within.
Tis Jesus my redeeming God
That pour'd for me his precious blood;
'Tis He I'11 love,
and Him I'11 sing,
My God, my Captain, and my King.
He will deliver me from woes,
All outward snares and inward foes;
He will direct my steps to trace
Unwearied thro' this wildy maze.
- - - - -
No object here of any kind
Is able to inflame my mind;
My whole affections and my love
Have fix'd on objects far above.
Had I the world to rule alone,
And all it's wealth and joys in one,
To trace its empty pleasures o'er
A thousand rolling years and more,
All would be but a fleeting rest,
While conscience burneth in my breast,
But mercy and grace
forgiving sin
Create a lasting feast within.
Tis Jesus my redeeming God
That pour'd for me his precious blood;
'Tis He I'11 love, and Him I'11 sing,
My God, my Captain, and my King.
He will deliver me from woes,
All outward snares and inward foes;
He will direct
my steps to trace
Unwearied thro' this wildy maze.
tr. William Williams 1717-91 |