Pwy welaf fel f'anwylyd?

Pwy welaf fel f'Anwylyd
  Yn hyfryd ac yn hardd,
Fel ffrwythlon bren afalau'n
  Rhagori ar brennau'r ardd?
Ces eistedd dan ei gysgod
  Mewn llawer cawod flin
A'i ffrwyth oedd fil o weithiau
  I'm genau'n well na gwin.

Duw edrych ar Dy winllan,
  Sy'n druan yn y drain,
A chwyth yr utgorn arian,
  I'n galw o blith y rhai'n,
A chyffwrdd â'n serchiadau,
  Enwaeda'n c'lonau a'n clyw,
I weled pob rhyw olud
  Yn ofid heb fy Nuw.

Rhyfeddod yw rhyfeddu,
  Na fedrwn garu'n fwy
'R Hwn droswyf ar Galfaria
  A gafodd farwol glwy',
Gwyn fyd a welo'r bore
  I'n derbyn adre'n iach,
Lle na cha'i boen na thrallod
  Gan bechod mawr na bach.

- - - - -
Pwy welaf fel f'anwylyd
  Yn hyfryd ac yn hardd,
Fel ffrwythlon bren afalau'n
  Rhagori ar brennau'r ardd?
Ces eistedd dan ei gysgod
  Mewn llawer cawod flin
A'i ffrwyth oedd fil o weithiau
  I'm genau'n well na gwin.

Gwell yw i mi na'r bywyd,
  Hyfrytach yw ei wedd
Na dim ag sydd weledig
  Yr ochr yma i'r bedd:
Un awr yn ei gyfeillach
  Can mil mwy gwerthfawr yw,
Nad oesoedd maith diderfun
  O'r pleser goreu'i ryw!

gwelir:
  Dymuno'r ydwyf dreulio
  Gwell wyt imi na'r bywyd

Whom can I see like my beloved
  Lovely and beautiful,
Like a fruitful apple tree
  Excelling the trees of the garden?
I got to sit under his shade
  In many a wearying shower
And his fruit was a thousand times
  To my mouth better than wine.

God, look upon Thy vineyard,
  Which is wretched in the thorns,
And blow the silver trumpet,
  To call us from amongst them,
And deal with our affections,
  Circumcise our hearts and our hearing,
To see every kind of wealth
  As a grief without my God.

A wonder it is to wonder,
  That I cannot love more
Him who for me on Calvary
  Received a mortal wound,
Blessed is one who sees the morning
  To receive us home whole,
Where I shall get no pain or trouble
  From sin great or small.

- - - - -
Whom can I see like my beloved
  Lovely and beautiful,
Like a fruitful apple tree
  Excelling the trees of the garden?
I got to sit under his shade
  In many a wearying shower
And his fruit was a thousand times
  To my mouth better than wine.

He is better to me than life,
  More delightful is his face
Than anything seen
  This side of the grave:
One hour in his friendship
  Is a thousand times more valuable,
Than vast endless ages
  Of the best kind of pleasure!

Who is like my Beloved,
  So comely and so fair,
An apple tree, all laden
  With blossoms rich and rare?
Beneath it I have sheltered
  From ev'ry storm malign;
Its fruit to me was sweeter
  Ten thousand times than wine.

- - - - -
Who is like my Beloved,
  So comely and so fair,
An apple tree, all laden
  With blossoms rich and rare?
Beneath it I have sheltered
  From ev'ry storm malign;
Its fruit to me was sweeter
  Ten thousand times than wine.

Life of my life is Jesus -
  To see His lovely face
To me is far more precious
  Than all the world's fair grace.
One hour of dear communion
  With Him is sweeter far
Than ages never ending,
  Of early pleasures are!