Wrth draed y Iesu i addoli dewch

Wrth draed y Iesu i addoli dewch,
Gwel'd pethau rhyfedd yntho cewch;
  Rhy gul yw'r byd i ddodi ma's
  Ei werth, ei rinwedd ef, neu'i ras.

Y greadigaeth oll ni ry'
Ond llesg gysgodau o'm Harglwydd cu:
  Nid natur all a'i lliwiau'i hun
  Byth roi ar led ei brydferth lun.

I fara a gwin, ai tebyg yw?
A hwn y porthir f'enaid byw;
  Dy gnawd a'th wa'd,
      trwy ryfedd rin,
  Sy' fywiol fara a nefol win.

Ai pren yw ef? Mae'r byd yn rhad
Yn cael o'i ddail ef lawn iachad:
  Y gwir flaguryn goreu'i ryw,
  Gwreiddyn a hiliogaeth Dafydd yw.

Ai rhosyn yw?  Nid Saron fwyn
Fath ber-aroglau ddichon ddwyn;
  Neu i'r lili os cyff 'lyba'i'm Ner,
  Pob glyn a fawl ei 'roglau per.

Ai per winwydden nefol yw?
O'i nodd y ffrwytha'r
    cangh'au byw;
  Boed undeb byth rhwng
      f'enaid trist,
  Fel cangen a'r winwydden Crist.

Ai pen yw ef? Pob aelod sydd
Yn cael oddi wrtho fywiol fudd;
  A saint uwchben, ac yn y byd,
  Trwy'i Yspryd unwyd oll i gyd.

Ai Ffynnon yw? I hon mi a'
I olchi mhechod blin a'i bla:
  A'i dyfroedd f'enaid a fywhair,
  A'm dillad brychion a lanhair.

Ai tân yw ef? Fe bura'm drwg,
Ond colled i'r gwir aur ni ddwg;
  Fe eiste'i lawr fel purwr glân,
  A'i draed y mathra'r sorod mân.

Ai craig yw ef? Fe saif yn syth,
Ni sifla craig yr oesoedd byth;
  Daw melus ddw'r o honi ma's,
  I'n cynnal trwy'r anialwch cras.

Ai ffordd yw ef? Mae'n dwyn at Dduw,
Mewn leiniau gwaed mae'r llwybyr gwiw;
  Mewn ffydd a zel mi
      a'i rhodia'n syn,
  Ne's elwyf fry i Seion fryn.

Ai drws yw ef? I mewn mi af;
Wele'r porfeydd yn wyrddon braf;
  Paradwys yw, nefolaid lân,
  Neb ond y defaid yno an'.

Ai congl-faen amcanwyd ef,
I ddynion weithio arno'u nef?
  Ar hwn sylfaenaf fineu'n hy,
  Nid ofnaf lid
      uffernol lu.

Ai teml yw? Addola'n brudd
Y gallu a'r mawredd ynthi sydd;
  A thu a'i sanctaidd le, dan cof,
  Fy wyneb pan weddiwyf trof.

Ai seren yw? Mae'n torri'r wawr
Trwy'r t'wyllwch â'i oleuni mawr;
  Ei 'goniant ef yn amlwg sydd,
  Adwaena'i'r ddisglair seren ddydd.

Ai haul yw ef? Gras yw ei byst;
Cyfiawnder pur yw gyrfa Crist:
  Pan ymddangoso, ymlid mae
  Gymylau'r saint,
      a'u llawenhau.

Am ddringo 'rwyf uwch wybren fry,
Lle ni ddaw 'stor'm na th'w'llwch du;
  Yno mae fe'n datguddio'i hun,
  Ac yn teyrnasu'n Dduw a dyn.

Nid dae'r, na môr, na haul, na ser,
All ddwyn cyff'lybiaeth llawn o'm ner;
  Ni's gallwn draethu'i degwch ef,
  Ne's gwel'd ei wyneb yn y nef.

gwelir: Ai pren yw Crist? mae'r byd yn rhad

At the feet of Jesus to worship come ye,
See wonderful things in it ye may;
  Too narrow is the world to set forth
  His worth, his merit, or his grace.

All the creation is nothing
But feeble shadows of my dear Lord:
  All nature with its own colours can
  Never put abroad his beautiful image.

To bread and wine, is he similar?
With him my living soul is fed;
  Thy flesh and thy blood,
      through heavenly virtue,
  Are lively bread and heavenly wine.

Is he a tree? The world is freely
Getting from his foliage full healing:
  The true shoot of its best kind,
  The root and race of David he is.

Is he a rose? Not gentle Sharon
Such sweet aromas hardly bears;
  Or to the lily if I compare my Master,
  Every vale shall praise his sweet aromas.

Is he a sweet, heavenly vine?
From his sap the living
    branches bear fruit;
  Let there be a union forever
      between my sad soul,
  Like a branch, and the vine Christ.

Is he a head? Every member is
Getting from him a lively benefit;
  And saints above, and in the world,
  Through his Spirit we are all united.

Is he a fountain? To this I shall go
To wash my grievous sin and my disease:
  With its waters my soul is made alive,
  And my spotted clothing is cleansed.

Is he a fire? He purifies my evil,
But no loss is brought to the true gold;
  He sits down like a holy purifier,
  With his feet he tramples the fine dross.

Is he a rock? He stands straight,
The rock of ages shall never shift;
  Sweet water comes out from it,
  To support us through the arid desert.

Is he a road? He leads to God,
In lines of blood is the worthy path;
  In faith and zeal I will
      walk it astonished,
  Until I go up to Zion hill.

Is he a door? Inside I will go;
See the pasture good and green;
  Paradise it is, heavenly holy,
  None but the sheep shall go there.

Is he a planned corner-stone,
For men to work their heaven upon?
  On this I myself will found boldly,
  I shall not fear the wrath
      of a hellish host.

Is he a temple? I will worship earnestly
The power and the majesty that is in it;
  A towards its holy place, remembering,
  My face, when I pray, I shall turn.

Is he a star? He breaks the dawn
Through the darkness with his great light;
  His glory is evident,
  I recognise the radiant star of day.

Is he a sun? Grace is his post;
Pure righteousness is the course of Christ:
  When he appears, he chases away
  The saints' clouds,
      and makes them rejoice.

I want to climb higher than the sky above,
Were no storm or black darkness shall come;
  There he will reveal himself,
  And reign as God and man.

Not earth, nor sea, nor sun, nor stars,
Can bear the full likeness of my master;
  I could not expound his fairness,
  Until seeing his face in heaven.

Go, worship at Immanuel's feet,
See in his face what wonders meet!
  Earth is too narrow to express
  His worth, his glory, or his grace.

The whole creation can afford
But some faint shadows of my Lord;
  Nature, to make his beauties known,
  Must mingle colours not her own.

Is he compared to wine or bread?
Dear Lord, our souls would thus be fed
  That flesh, that dying
      blood of thine,
  Is bread of life, is heav'nly wine.

Is he a tree? The world receives
Salvation from his
    healing leaves;
  That righteous branch,
      that fruitful bough,
  Is David's root and offspring too.

Is he a rose? Not Sharon yields
Such fragrancy in all her fields:
  Or if the lily he assume,
  The valleys bless the rich perfume.

Is he a vine? His heav'nly root
Supplies the boughs with life and fruit
  O let a lasting union join
  My soul the branch to Christ the vine!

Is he the head? Each member lives,
And owns the vital powers he gives;
  The saints below and saints above
  Joined by his Spirit and his love.

Is he a fountain? There I bathe,
And heal the plague of sin and death
  These waters all my soul renew,
  And cleanse my spotted garments too.

Is he a fire? He'll purge my dross;
But the true gold sustains no loss:
  Like a refiner shall he sit,
  And tread the refuse with his feet.

Is he a rock? How firm he proves!
The Rock of ages never moves;
  Yet the sweet streams that from him flow
  Attend us all the desert through.

Is he a way? He leads to God,
The path is drawn in lines of blood;
  There would I walk
      with hope and zeal,
  Till I arrive at Zion's hill.

Is he a door? I'll enter in
Behold the pastures large and green,
  A paradise divinely fair;
  None but the sheep have freedom there.

Is he designed the corner-stone,
For men to build their heav'n upon?
  I'll make him my foundation too,
  Nor fear the plots
      of hell below.

Is he a temple? I adore
Th' indwelling majesty and power
  And still to this most holy place,
  Whene'er I pray, I turn my face.

Is he a star? He breaks the night
Piercing the shades with dawning light;
  I know his glories from afar,
  I know the bright, the morning star.

Is he a sun? His beams are grace,
His course is joy and righteousness;
  Nations rejoice when he appears
  To chase their clouds
      and dry their tears.

O let me climb those higher skies,
Where storms and darkness never rise!
  There he displays his power abroad,
  And shines and reigns th' incarnate God.

Nor earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n, his full resemblance bears;
  His beauties we can never trace,
  Till we behold him face to face.