Anwyl Fam Rhywun

Y wraig oedd oedranus,
    a phenllwyd, a charpiog;
Ei chamrau oedd fusgrell,
    a'i gwedd yn anwydog:
  Hi safai'n grynedig
      ger pen y dramwyfa
  Sy'n croesi yr heol,
      oedd wleb gan yr eira.

Yr heol oedd dryfrith
    o feirch a cherbydau
Yn gwau trwy eu gilydd
    fel gefr ar daranau.
  Y bechgyn aent heibio
      mewn afiaeth direol,
  Gan faint eu llawenydd
      am dori yr Ysgol:

A'r wraig oedd am egwyl
    i groesi yn gwylio,
A'i chalon yn pallu
    wrth feddwl anturio,
  Rhag ofn cael ei thaflu
      gan un o'r cerbydau,
  Neu lithro a disgyn
      dan draed y ceffylau:

Heb neb o'r niferi
    o hyd oedd yn pasio
Yn canfod ei phryder,
    na chynnyg ei helpio.
  Tramwywyr y palmant
      aent heibio'n ddisylw,
  Nes, toc, y daeth ati
      un bachgen - a hwnw

Wrth wel'd ei chyfyngder,
    sisialodd yn araf -
"Os mynech chwi groesi,
    hen fam, mi a'ch helpiaf."
  A'r wreigan a ddodes
      ei llaw oer, grynedig,
  I bwyso ar fraich gref
      y llencyn caredig.

Ac felly croeasasant,
    er maint y peryglon,
A'r wraig a ddiolchai
    o waelod ei chalon.
  Gwrandawyd yn ddiau
      y weddi ddifrifddwys
  A wnaeth y nos hono
      cyn myned i orphwys,

Yn gofyn i'w Thad
    yn y Nefoedd ad-dalu
I'r bachgen a fu
    mor garedig a'i helpu.
  Yn ol at ei gwmni
      dychwelai y llencyn,
  Yn falch am y cyfle
      a gawsai i estyn

Help llaw i'r druanes
    dylawd a methedig -
A'r Nefoedd a gymerth
    y tro yn garedig.
  "Hon yma, gyfeillion,"
      dywedai y llencyn,
  "Er hyned a thloted,
      sydd anwyl fam rhywun;

Gwna rhywun gymwynas
    i'm hanwyl fam innau,
Mewn awr o gyfyngder,
    pan yn ei hen ddyddiau."
  A wyddoch chwi, fechgyn,
      mae'r Arglwydd yn wastad
  Yn cymeradwyo
      y cyfryw ymddygiad;

A thâl efe eto
    am bob rhyw gymwynas
A wneir (waeth po leied)
    i ddeiliaid ei deyrnas.

The woman was elderly,
    grey-haired, and ragged;
Her steps were faltering,
    and her countenance chilly:
  She was standing shivering
      by the head of the crossing
  Which is crossing the street,
      which was wet with snow.

The street was teeming
    with horses and vehicles
Weaving through one another
    like goats thundering.
  The boys went past
      in disorderly mirth,
  Their joy so great
      for the breaking of the School:

And the woman was for an interval
    to cross waiting,
With her heart failing
    on thinking of venturing,
  For fear of her being flung
      by one of the vehicles,
  Or slipping and falling
      under the feet of the horses:

Without any of the numbers
    who were still passing
Perceiving her worry,
    or offering to help her.
  The crossers of the pavement
      went past unnoticing,
  Until, suddenly, there came to her
      one of the boys - and he

On seeing her straits,
    whispered slowly -
"If you insist on crossing,
    old mother, I will help you."
  And the little old woman gave
      her cold, shivering hand,
  To lean on the strong arm
      on the kind lad.

And so they had crossed,
    despite the extent of the danger,
And the woman was thanking
    from the bottom of her heart.
  Heard, undoubtedly, was
      the fervent prayer
  She made that night
      before going to rest,

Asking her Father
    in Heaven to repay
The boy who was
    so kind as to help her.
  Back to his company
      returned the lad,
  Proud of the opportunity
      he got to extend

A helping hand to the pitiful woman
    poor and infirm -
And Heaven which accepts
    the kind turn.
  "This here, friends,"
      said the lad,
  "Despite old-age and poverty,
      is someone's beloved mother;

Someone will do a kindness
    to my own beloved mother,
In the hour of straits,
    when in her old days."
  And you know, boys,
      the Lord is constantly
  Applauding
      such behaviour;

And he will pay back
    for every kind of generosity
To be done (no matter how small)
    to the tenants of his kingdom.

The woman was old
    and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill
    of the Winter's day.
  The street was wet
      with a recent snow
  And the woman's feet
      were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing
    and waited long,
Alone, uncared for,
    amid the throng
  Of human beings
      who passed her by
  Nor heeded the glance
      of her anxious eyes.

Down the street,
    with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom
    of "school let out,"
  Came the boys
      like a flock of sheep,
  Hailing the snow
      piled white and deep.

Past the woman
    so old and gray
Hastened the children
    on their way.
  Nor offered a helping
       hand to her -
  So meek, so timid,
       afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels
    or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down
    in the slippery street.
  At last came one
      of the merry troop,
  The gayest laddie
      of all the group;

He paused beside her
    and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross,
    if you wish to go."
  Her aged hand
      on his strong young arm
  She placed, and so,
      without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling
    feet along,
Proud that his own
    were firm and strong.
  Then back again
      to his friends he went,
  His young heart happy
      and well content.

"She's somebody's mother,
    boys, you know,
For all she's aged
    and poor and slow,
  "And I hope some fellow
       will lend a hand
  To help my mother,
       you understand,

"If ever she's poor
     and old and gray,
When her own dear boy
     is far away."
  And "somebody's mother"
     bowed low her head
  In her home that night,
     and the prayer she said

Was "God be kind
    to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son,
    and pride and joy!"