Nid yw y ddaear fawr i gyd

(Rhagoriaeth cariad Crist)
1,2,3,5;  1,(4),5;  1,6.
Nid yw y ddaear fawr i gyd
Yn deilwng o fy serch a'm bryd,
Nac unrhyw wrthddrych yn y byd,
  'Rwy'n caru gwrthddrych mwy:
Nid llai y sawl wy'n garu yw
Na pherffaith ddyn a pherffaith Dduw;
Dioddefodd unwaith farwol friw:
  O! werthfawrocaf glwy'!

Ni fyddai bywyd maith, pe cawn,
Ond diddim a disylwedd iawn
Heb gael rhyw ran
    o'th nefol ddawn
  Yn wastad i'w fwynhau:
'Does un o'm holl synwyrau i gyd,
Nac un o nwydau'm henaid drud,
A gwrthddrych iddo yn y byd,
  Am hyny, tyr'd yn glau.

'Rwy'n dlawd, 'rwy'n dlawd o'r oll yn awr,
Nid wy'n cyttuno dim â'r llawr,
'Rwy'n griddfan dan anobaith mawr,
  Os hebot rhaid im fyw;
Ac nid oes dim o dan y ne'
Wna i fyny'r golled o hono fe,
Na dim atteba yn ei le;
  Anfeidrol yw fy Nuw.

yr holl wrthddrychau teg eu pryd
Ag wyf yn garu oreu gyd,
O gongl faith i'r
    llall o'r byd
  Ddiflanant wrth dy glun:
Os unrhyw eilun ar y dòn,
A gais rhyw loches tan fy mron,
Yn uniawn mi ffieiddiaf hon,
  A charaf di dy hun.

Wel, dyma'r cariad sydd yn awr
Yn curo pob cariadau i lawr,
Yn llyngcu enwau gwael y llawr
  Oll yn ei enw'i hun:
O! fflam angerddol, gadarn, gref,
O dân ennynwyd yn y nef!
Tragwyddol gariad ydyw ef,
  Wnaeth Duw a minnau'n un.

O! addfwyn Iesu! gad im' fod
O fewn dy gorlan, dan dy nod,
A phob rhyw nwydau dan fy nhroed,
  Yn gyflawn o dy hedd:
Yn nghanol terfysg a phob gwae,
Croes a chystuddiau'n amlhau,
Heb fedru dim
    ond llawenhau,
  Nes gorwedd yn y bedd.
a'm bryd :: a 'mryd
unwaith :: trosof
O! fflam :: Rhyw fflam
                 - - - - -

Nid yw y ddaear fawr i gyd
Yn deilwng o fy serch a'm mhryd,
  'Rwy'n caru gwrthddrych mwy;
Sef perffaith ddyn â pherffaith Dduw,
'Rhwn a ddioddefodd farwol friw,
  O werthfawroccaf glwy'!

Anfeidrol berffaith sanctaidd fôd
Na foed im' bleser dan y rhôd,
  Yn rhagor na'th fwynhau:
Ac os y pleser yma a gaf,
Ymlynu wrthyt ti a wnâf,
  A hynny i barhau.

A phe diffoddai'r
    haulwen fawr
A phe diffygiai'r fore wawr,
  A th'wllwch gael ei le;
Cawn drigo mewn sancteiddiol dir,
Yn llewyrch haul
    cyfiawnder pûr
  Tu fewn i gaerau'r ne'.
William Williams 1717-91

Tonau [8886D]:
Beulah (alaw Gymreig)
Darowain (alaw Gymreig)
Llanddewi (Gesangbuch Walther)
  Rhos (<1835)
Sardinia (<1876)

gwelir: Wel dyma'r cariad sydd yn awr

(The supremacy of the love of Christ)
 
Not all the great earth is
Worthy of my affection and my attention,
Nor any object in the world,
  I am loving a greater object:
No less are those I am loving
Than perfect man and perfect God;
He suffered once a mortal bruise:
  O! most precious wound!

Vast life would not be, if I had it,
But nothing and very negligible
Without getting some portion
    of thy heavenly gift
  Constantly to enjoy:
There is not one of all my senses,
Nor any of my precious soul's desires,
That reflects him in the world,
  Therefore, come quickly!

I am poor, I am the poorest of all now,
I am not agreeing at all with earth below,
I am groaning under great hopelessness,
  If without thee I must live;
And there is nothing under heaven
Makes up for losing him,
Nor anything that answers in its place;
  Infinite is my God.

All the objects of a fair appearance,
That I love best of all,
From a vast corner to the
    other of the world
  They shall disappear at thy hip:
If any idol on the wave,
That seeks some refuge under my breast,
Directly I shall detest this,
  And I shall love thee thyself.

See, here is love that is now
Beating all loves down,
Swallowing the poor names of the earth
  All in its own name:
O passionate, firm, strong flame,
Of fire enkindled in heaven!
Eternal love it is,
  That made God and me as one.

O gentle Jesus! let me be
Within thy sheepfold, under thy mark,
With all kinds of lusts under my feet,
  Completely from thy peace:
In the midst of tumult and every woe,
Cross and afflictions multiplying,
Without being able to do anything
    but rejoice,
  Until lying in the grave.
::
once :: for me
O ... flame :: Some ... flame
              - - - - -

Not all the great earth is
Worthy of my affection and my mind,
  I am loving a greater object;
That is perfect man with perfect God,
He who suffered a mortal bruise,
  O most precious wound!

An immeasurable, perfect, sacred being
May I have no pleasure under the sky,
  More than to enjoy thee:
And if this pleasure I have,
Cling to thee I shall,
  And that to endure.

And if the great bright sun
    were to extinguish
And if the morning dawn were to fail,
  And darkness take its place;
I would get to climb in a sacred land,
In the radiance of the pure
    sun of righteousness
  Within the citadels of heaven.
tr. 2019 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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