Nid oes gwrthddrych ar y ddaear A leinw'm henaid gwerthfawr drud; Fy unig bleser a'm dyddanwch, Yw hyfryd wedd dy wyneb-pryd; Gwedd dy wyneb dyr y c'lymau, A phob creadur ar y llawr; Ac a wna câr a chyfaill Ym ddim, er mwyn ei enw mawr. Ni ddichon byd a'i holl deganau Fodloni fy serchiadau'n awr; A enillwyd, a ëangwyd, Yn nydd nerth fy Arglwydd mawr: Efe nid llai, a all eu llenwi, Er mai ddiamgyffred yw, O am syllu ar ei Berson, Rhyfeddod pob rhyfeddod yw. Tywyned haulwen ar fy enaid, Blinais ganwaith ar y nos; Nid yw'm hawddfyd, na'm pleserau, Na'm heilunod, ond fy nghroes: Mynwes Iesu yw'm dedwyddwch, Yno 'rwy'n dymuno bod; Fe roe cariad dwyfol perffaith; Fy holl eilunod dan fy nhroed. Arogli'n beraidd mae fy Nardus, Wrth wledda ar y cariad rad; Sêl yn tanio yn erbyn pechod, Caru delw sancteiddhâd: Tynu ymaith law a llygad, Ynghyd âg uchel drem i lawr; Neb yn deilwng o'i dderchafu, Ond fy Iesu, Frenin mawr. O am yfed yma beunydd O ffrydiau'r iachawdwriaeth fawr; Nes fy nghwbwl ddisychedu Am ddarfodedig bethau'r llawr: Byw dan ddysgwyl am fy Arglwydd, Bod, pan ddelo, yn effro iawn I agoryd iddo'n ebrwydd A mwynhâu ei ddelw'n llawn. Rhyfeddu a wnaf â mawr ryfeddod, Pan ddêl i ben y ddedwydd awr; Câf wel'd fy meddwl, sy yma'n gwibio, Ar ôl teganau gwael y llawr, Wedi ei sefydlu yn gyfan, Ar wrthrych mawr ei Berson Ef, A diysgog gydymffurfio  phur a sanctaidd ddeddfau'r nef. - - - - - Nid oes wrthddrych ar y ddaear Leinw'm henaid gwerthfawr drud, Fy holl bleser a'm dyddanwch Ydyw gwedd dy wyneb pryd; Gwedd dy wyneb ysgar rhyngwyf A phob eilun ar y llawr; Nid yw enwau câr na chyfaill Ddim i mi wrth d'enw mawr. Coded heulwen ar fy enaid, Blinais ganwaith ar y nos; Nid yw'm hawddfyd, na'm pleserau, Na'm heilunod, ond fy nghroes: Mynwes Iesu yw'm dedwyddwch, Yno 'rwy'n dymuno bod; Gall ei gariad dwyfol perffaith Roi pob eilun dan fy nhroed.
1,3,4,5: Ann Griffiths 1776-1805
Tonau [8787D / 9898D]:
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There is no object on the earth Which fills my precious, dear soul; My only pleasure and my interest, Is the delightful aspect of thy countenance; The aspect of thy face turns the knots, And every creature on the ground; And makes lover and friend As nothing, for the sake of his great name. The world and all its trinkets cannot Satisfy my affections now, Which were won, and broadened In the day of the power of my great Lord; He, no less, it is can fill them, Although so incomprehensible it is, O to gaze on his Person, Wonder of all wonders it is! May the sun shine on my soul, I am wearied a hundred-fold of the night; My enjoyment, my pleasure, My idols, are only my cross: The breast of Jesus is my interest, There I am wishing to be; His perfect divine love can put All my idols beneath my feet. Smelling sweetly is my Nard, While feasting on the gracious love; Zeal striking against sin, Loving the image of holiness: Pulling off hand and eye, Together with haughty gaze down; None worthy of his exaltation, But my Jesus, great King. Oh to drink here daily From the streams of the great salvation; Until my thirst is completely quenched For the vanishing things of the earth: To live while expecting my Lord, To be, when he comes, very awake To open to him swiftly And enjoy his image fully. Amazed I shall be with a great amazement, When the happy hour comes; I may get to see my thought, which here is fleeting, After the base trinkets of earth, Established totally, On the great object of His Person, Which shall dislodge conforming With the pure and holy laws of heaven. - - - - - There is no object on the earth Fills my precious dear soul, All my pleasure and my interest Is the aspect of thy countenance; The aspect of thy face will separate me From every idol on the earth; No name of lover or friend is Anything to me beside thy great name. May the sun rise on my soul, I am weary a hundred-fold of the night; My enjoyment, my pleasures, My idols, are only my cross: The breast of Jesus is my interest, There I am wishing to be; His divine, perfect love can Put every idol under my feet. tr. 2013,18 Richard B Gillion |
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