Tyrd, Ysbryd Glân, Greawdwr mawr, Ymwêl a'th weision ar y llawr; Â'th ras cyflenwa oddi fry Galonnu'r rhai a greaist ti. Fe'th elwir y Diddnydd, dawn Y Duw gorchaf, ffynnon lawn O fywyd, cariad, tân a ffun Ac olew ac angen enaid dyn. Tydi - cans seithwedd yw dy rad - Yw bys deheulaw Duw y Tad, Cyflawniad ei addewid ef Sy'n rhoi i'n genau neges nef. T'wynned dy leufer yn ein bryd, Dy serch i'n c'lonnau, ti a'i dyd; Pob pall o'n gwelltyn cnawd a gwall Diwalla di â'th nerth di-ball. Gelyn ein henaid gyr ar ffo, A'th hedd heb oedi inni rho; Ni ddaw inni niwed yn ein byw, A thi'n arweinydd, ti yn llyw. Trwot rho wybod, Ysbryd Duw, Fod Duw yn Dad, y Mab yn Dduw, Gyda thi'n Drindod, Ysbryd Glân, Un Duw tragwyddol diwahân. Gogoniant fo i Dduw y Tad, I'r Mab a ddaeth o farw yn fyw, Gogoniant i'r Diddanydd rhad, I'r Un sy Dri a'r Tri'n un Duw.cyf. 1899 John Hugh Jones (Y Tad Ioan Huw Jones 1843-1910) Tôn [MH 8888]: Rockingham (Edward Miller 1731-1807) |
Come, Holy Spirit, great Creator, Visit thy servants on the earth below; With thy grace fill from above The hearts of those thou didst create. Thou art called the Comforter, the gift Of God most high, a full fount Of the life, love, fire and breath And the oil and need of the soul of man. Thou - since sevenfold is thy gift - Art the finger of the right hand of God the Father, The fulfilment of his promise That puts in our mouths heaven's message. May thy light shine in our mind, Thy affection into our hearts, may thou put; Every failing of our flesh of straw and lack Supply thou with thy unfailing strength. The enemy of our soul drive away, And thy peace without delay to us give; May no harm come to us in our living, With thee as guide, thee as governor. Through thyself give knowledge, Spirit of God, That God is Father, the Son is God, With thee as a Trinity, Holy Spirit, One God eternally undivided. Glory be to God the Father, To the Son who came from death alive, Glory to the gracious Comforter, To the One who is Three and the Three as one God.tr. 2022 Richard B Gillion |
Come, Holy Ghost, Creator, come From Thy bright heav'nly throne; Come, take possession of our souls, And make them all Thine own. Thou who art called the Paraclete, Best gift of God above, The living spring, the living fire, Sweet unction and true love. Thou who art sevenfold in Thy grace, Finger of God's right hand; His promise, teaching little ones To speak and understand. O guide our minds with Thy blest light, With love our hearts inflame; And with Thy strength, which ne'er decays, Confirm our mortal frame. Far from us drive our deadly foe; True peace unto us bring; And through all perils lead us safe Beneath Thy sacred wing. Through Thee may we the Father know, Through Thee th'eternal Son, And Thee the Spirit of them both, Thrice-blessèd Three in One. All glory to the Father be, With His co-equal Son: The same to Thee, great Paraclete, While endless ages run.Hymns for the Year, 1867.
from the Latin Rabanus Maurus c.776-856 |