Arglwydd gad im dawel orffwys/orphwys

Arglwydd, gad im dawel orffwys
  Dan gysgodau'r palmwydd clyd
Lle yr eistedd pererinion
  Ar eu ffordd i'r nefol fyd,
Lle'r adroddant dy ffyddlondeb
  Iddynt yn yr anial cras
Nes anghofio'u cyfyngderau
  Wrth foliannu nerth dy ras.

O mor hoff yw cwmni'r brodyr
  Sydd â'u hwyneb tua'r wlad
heb un tafod yn gwenieithio,
  Heb un fron yn meithrin brad;
Gwlith y nefoedd ar eu profiad,
  Atsain hyder yn eu hiaith;
Teimlant hiraeth am eu cartref,
  Carant sôn
      am ben eu taith.

Arglwydd, dal ni nes mynd adref,
  Nid yw'r llwybyr eto'n faith;
Gwened heulwen ar ein henaid
  Wrth nesáu at ben y daith;
Doed y nefol awel dyner
  I'n cyfarfod yn y glyn
Nes in deimlo'n traed yn sengi
  Ar uchelder Seion fryn.

Lord, give me quiet rest
  Under the shade of cosy palms,
Where sit pilgrims
  On their way to the heavenly world,
Where they report thy faithfulness
  To them in the rough desert,
Until they forget their distresses
  while praising the power of thy grace.

O how pleased is the company of the brothers
  Who with their face towards the land
Without one tongue flattering,
  Without one breast cultivating treachery;
The dew of heaven on their experience,
  An echo of confidence in their language;
They feel longing for their home,
  They love to speak
      of the end of their journey.

Lord, keep us until we go home,
  No longer is the path lengthy;
May the sun shine on our soul;
  As we draw near to the end of our journey;
May the gentle heavenly breeze come
  To meet us in the vale
Until we feel our feet tread
  On the height of mount Zion.

Grant me, Lord, to rest at leisure
  Where the weary pilgrims stay
Seated 'neath the shady palm-trees
  Growing by the heaven-ward way
Telling how thy faithful mercy
  Brought them through that barren place
Tribulations are forgotten
  As they glory in thy grace.

Wondrous is the love of brother
  As they journey to that land
Not a tongue is there that flatters
  None is false or underhand
Heaven's dew shall sooth their travail
  Boldness in their speech shall blend
As they yearn to reach the homeland
  Waiting at
      their journey's end.

Bring us, Lord, unto the haven
  Now, the road is not so drear
Let thy sunshine cheer our spirits
  As our journey's end draws near
May the gentle breeze of heaven
  Come to greet us in the vale
Till our feet, upon the mountain
  To the heights of Zion scale.

Also: Give me quiet resting-places
Howell Elvet Lewis [Elfed] 1860-1953
Sweet Singers of Wales 1889