Nid gwaed yr holl gre'duriaid gwâr
A laddwyd ar allorau,
Ro'i i gydwybod euog hedd,
A'i llygredd a olchasai.
Ond Crist, Oen Duw,
ddilëa'n lân
Ein llygredd a'n hanwiredd;
Rhagorach aberth wnaeth nâ hwy,
A gwaed myrdd mwy
ei rinwedd.
Fy ffydd all ddodi'i llaw yn hy'
Ar ben yr Iesu grasol,
Tra b'wy'n cyfadde'm bai ar led
O'i flaen yn edifeiriol.
Fy enaid syllu beunydd mae
Ar groes a beichiau'm Harglwydd,
Mewn gobaith cadarn iddo fo
Ddwyn yno fy euogrwydd.
Gan gredu'r y'm yn llawenhau,
I Dduw bellhau y felldith;
A moli'r Oen
am golli'i wa'd,
I ddwyn rhyddhad a bendith.
Ro'i i gydwybod :: A ro'i gydwybod ddilëa'n :: dileu mae'n llygredd :: pechod wnaeth nâ nwy :: nâ hwynt-hwy myrdd mwy :: sy' fwy all ddodi :: fyn ddodi cyfadde'm bai :: cyfadde' mai syllu beunydd mae :: edrych 'nol y mae tr. Psalmau Dafydd (Dafydd Jones) 1775 [MS 8787] gwelir: Nis gall('s)ai gwaed yr holl |
Not the blood of all obedient creatures
That were killed on altars,
Would give to a guilty conscience peace,
And would wash its corruption.
But it is Christ, the Lamb of God,
who removes completely
Our corruption and our falsehood;
A superior sacrifice he made than they,
With blood with a myriad
times more merit.
My faith can put its hand boldly
On the head of gracious Jesus,
While I am confessing my sins openly
Before him repentantly.
My soul is staring daily
On the cross and burdens of my Lord,
In a firm hope of his
Taking there my guilt.
Through believing we are rejoicing,
That God removes the curse;
And praising the Lamb
for shedding his blood,
To bring freedom and blessing.
:: :: corruption :: sin :: with a myriad times more :: which has greater can put :: insists on putting :: is staring daily :: is looking back tr. 2018 Richard B Gillion |
Not all the blood of beasts
On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace
Or wash away the stain.
But Christ the
heav'nly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;
A sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood
than they.
My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of Thine;
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.
My soul looks back to see
The burdens Thou didst bear,
When hanging on the cursèd tree,
And hopes her guilt was there.
Believing, we rejoice
To see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with
cheerful voice,
And sing His bleeding love.
Tune [SM 6686]: Southwell (William Daman 1550-c.1593) |