Rhaid imi gael pob gras pob dawn

(Dibyniad ar Grist)
1,2,3,4,5;  1,2,6.
Rhaid imi gael pob gras, pob dawn,
  O'th drysor llawn yn gyfan;
Ac oni chaf, fy enaid prudd
  A gyll y dydd yn fuan.

Dy wisg dy hun, Cyfiawnder hael,
  Sydd raid im' gael yn mlaenaf;
Nid oes ond ofni dan fy mron,
  Nes caffwyf hon am danaf.

Sancteiddrwydd im' yw'r Oen dinam,
  'Nghyfiawnder a'm doethineb;
Fy mhrynedigaeth o bob pla,
  Fy Nuw i drag'wyddoldeb.

Gwyn fyd y rhai
    dilëaist eu bai,
  Eu pechod a'u hanwiredd;
Gan roi iddynt nerth, er cnawd a byd,
  I bara hyd y diwedd.

Dysgwyl yr wyf, a hyn bob cam,
  Fel gwyliwr am y boreu,
I brofi cryfder
    braich dy ras,
  I'm tynu maes o'm beiau.

Trugaredd, f'arglwydd, heb ddim mwy,
  Trugaredd rwy'n ei geisio;
Trugaredd yw fy newis lwydd,
  Trugaredd, f'Arglwydd dyro.

              - - - - -
(Cyfiawnhad, a gorfoledd yr iechydwriaeth.)
1,2,3,4,(5),6,7.
Rhaid i mi gael pob gras pob dawn,
  O'th drysor llawn yn gyfan,
Ac oni chaf, fy enaid prudd
  A gyll y dydd yn fuan.

Dy wisg dy hun, cyfiawnder hael,
  Rhaid i mi gael y'mlaenaf;
Nid oes ond ofni dan fy mron,
  Nes caffwy' hon am danaf.

Dy gnawd yw'r bara hyfryd fwyd
  Yn unig gwyd ein henaid;
Pan gwelom ynddo'r wayw-ffon,
  Fe'n dad-ddrys o'n caethiwed.

Cael gwledda ar dy hedd o hyd,
  Anghofio'r hyd yn gyfan;
A'th demi lan fo 'n trigfa ni,
  I'th weled di dy hunan.

Nid yw'r dydd etto ond megis gwawr,
  Goleuni mawr sy'n dyfod;
Pan ddêl myrddiynau gyd âg ef,
  I fyn'd i'r nef a'i brïod.

A chlôd ar glôd
    ei ras tra mawr
  Ledaena yn awr mor helaeth,
N'es seinio trwy
    holl entrych ne'
  Am ddyfais iechydwriaeth.

O cadw fi yn dy fynwes bur
  Nes d'od i'r eglur fywyd,
At fy nghyfeillion sydd mewn hedd
  Yn gweled gwedd f'Anwylyd.
William Williams 1717-91

Tonau [MS 8787]:
Bethlehem (E J Stephen 1822-85)
  Oxford (<1829)
Rachel (<1875)
St Beuno (<1875)

gwelir:
  Clodfored bawb ein Harglwydd Dduw
  Galw 'rwyf arnat am dy fod
  Gwyn fyd y rhai dilëaist eu bai
  Nid yw hi etto ond megys gwawr
  O'i ystlys bur yn cwympo i lawr
  Pan ballo ffafor pawb a'i hedd
  Sancteiddrwydd im' yw'r Oen di-nàm
  Trugaredd f'Arglwydd heb ddim mwy

(Dependency on Christ)
 
I must get every grace, every gift,
  From thy full treasure totally;
And unless I do, my sad soul
  Shall lose the day soon.

Thy own clothing, generous Righteousness,
  Is what I must get foremost;
There is only fearing under my breast,
  Until I get this around me.

Holiness for me is the spotless Lamb,
  My righteousness and my wisdom;
My redemption from every plague,
  My God for eternity.

Blessed are those
    whose fault thou didst obliterate,
  Their sin and their falsehood;
By giving to them strength,
    despite flesh and world.

Expecting I am, and this every step,
  Like a watchman for the morning,
To experience the strength
    of the arm of thy grace,
  To pull me out of my faults.

Mercy, my Lord, with nothing more,
  Mercy I am seeking;
Mercy is my prosperous choice,
  Mercy, my Lord will give.

               - - - - -
(The justification, and jubilation of the salvation.)
 
I must get every grace, every gift,
  From thy full treasure totally;
And unless I do, my sad soul
  Shall lose the day soon.

Thy own clothing, generous Righteousness,
  Is what I must get foremost;
There is only fearing under my breast,
  Until I get this around me.

Thy flesh is the bread of delightful food
  Which alone raises our soul;
When we see in it the staff,
  It releases us from our captivity.

To get to feast on thy peace always,
  Forgetting the length totally;
And may thy holy temple be our dwelling,
  To see thee thyself.
  
The day is yet only like a dawn,
  Of the great light that is coming;
When myriads come with him,
  To go to heaven with his bride.

And praise upon praise
    of his grace so great
  Spreads now so widely,
Until sounding throughout
    all the vault of heaven
  About the scheme of salvation.

O keep me in thy pure bosom
  Until coming to the clear life,
To my companions who are in peace
  Seeing my Beloved's face.
tr. 2016 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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