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1,2,3,4; 1,2,3,5,6,7,8; 1,2,4,5,6,7,8.
Gweddio 'rwyf och'neidio yn brudd,
Rhyfela yn deg am gael y dydd;
Lleng sydd o fewn, llu sydd o faes,
O'ffernol griw
am faeddu'm gras.
O nertha f'enaid gwan ei ffydd,
'Roi ofal arnat ti bob dydd;
Heb flino 'nghylch amseroedd draw,
Y rhai o bosib' byth ni ddaw.
Gronyn o'th hedd a'th gariad drud,
A etyb fy nghystuddiau gyd;
Ond rhyfedd iawn y rhinwedd sy
Mewn lleiad gradd o'r nefoedd fry.
Ei ganmol bellach wnâf o hyd,
Heb dewi mwy
tra yn y byd;
Dechreuais gân a bery'n hwy,
Nag y ceir diwedd arni mwy.
Pan oedd euogrwydd heb ddim hêdd
Y'mron a'm gwasgu'n
îs na'r bedd,
A'm holl bechodau'n codi'n llu,
Datguddiodd Duw ei Fab i mi.
Cymmer fi, Iesu, fel yr wyf,
Cuddia fi yn dy farwol glwyf;
Can's dyna graig
y gwnaf fy nyth,
'Does neb yn ofni yno byth.
Dyma gyfarfod hyfryd iawn,
Myfi yn llwm a'r Iesu'n llawn;
Myfi yn dlawd heb feddu dim
Ac yntau'n rhoddi pob peth im'.
Gâd i mi dreulio nyddiau i gyd
I edrych ar dy wyneb-pryd,
Difyru f'oes o awr i awr,
I garu fy Eiriolwr mawr.
- - - - -
Gweddio'r wyf, och'neidio'n brudd,
Rhyfela'n deg am gael y dydd;
Lleng sydd o fewn, llu sydd o faes,
Rhyw fyddin gref am
faeddu'm gras.
Pa bryd ca'i deimlo cariad rhad,
I'm henaid gwan,
a rhin y gwaed,
I'm gwneyd yn gryf yn erbyn grym,
Ac eithaf llid gelynion llym.
Bryd ca'i'm glanhau
o'm pen i'm traed,
Mewn grisial fôr o werthfawr waed;
Iacha fy mriwiau (dyfnion y'nt),
A gefais yn mharadwys gynt.
Bryd ca'i ddinystrio'r
delwau'n llawn,
Sy' am lechu dana'n
ddirgel iawn;
Llabyddio Agag yn ddi barch,
A Dagon gwympo o flaen yr arch.
F'adnabod wyt 'n hir
cyn bod byd,
Praw' 'nghalon a'm arenau i gyd;
Fy Mhriod mwyn, rho allu mawr
I gludo yn lân fy meiau lawr.
Rho win ac olew yn fy mriw,
Gwisg fi yn deg â delw Duw;
Par'to fi i fyn'd i blith y llu
Sy'n ddysglaer yn y llefoedd fry.
dana'n :: dana'i yn
Tonau [MH 8888]:
gwelir: |
Praying I am groaning sadly,
Battling finely for winning the day;
A legion is within, a host is without,
Of a hellish crew
wanting to vanquish my grace.
Oh strengthen the faith of my weak soul,
To put care upon thee every day;
Without grieving about the yonder times,
Those which possibly may never come.
A grain of thy peace and thy precious love,
Shall answer all my afflictions;
But very wonderful the merit is
In the least degree of heaven above.
Praise him henceforth I shall always do,
Without being quiet any more
while in the world;
I began a song which shall long endure,
Nor get an end to it any more.
When there was guilt without any peace
In my breast and pressing me
lower than the grave,
And all my sins rising as a host,
God revealed his Son to me.
Take me, Jesus, as I am,
Hide me in thy mortal wound,
Since that is the rock
I will make my nest,
There is no-one fearing there ever.
Here is the very delightful meeting,
I empty and Jesus full;
I poor without possessing anything
And he giving everything to me.
Let me spend all my days
To look upon thy countenance,
Interest my lifespan from hour to hour,
To love my great Intercessor.
- - - - -
Praying I am, groaning sadly,
Battling finely for getting the day;
A legion is within, a host is without,
Some strong army wanting
to vanquish my grace.
When shall I get to feel free love,
For my weak soul,
and the merit of the blood,
To make me strong against a force,
And the extreme anger of keen enemies?
When shall I get cleansed
from my head to my feet,
In the crystal sea of precious blood;
Heal my bruises (they are deep),
That I got of old in paradise.
When shall I get the destruction
of idols fully,
Which want to hide under me
very secretly;
The stoning of Agag dishonourably,
And the falling of Dagon before the ark?
Thou hast known me long
before the world was,
Test my heart and my kidneys altogether;
My dear own one, give great power
To take all my faults down.
Put wine and oil on my wound,
Cloth me finely with the image of God;
Cause me to go amongst the host
Who are shining in the places above.
:: tr. 2015,20 Richard B Gillion |
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