O canwn yn llafar,
heb galon yn drist,
Am rinwedd a doniau
gogoned ein Crist,
A'i hoff Apostolion,
eu palmwydd a'u mawl,
O flaen yr orseddfainc
yn ardal y gwawl.
Wel dyma benaethiaid
yr Eglwys ddi-wad,
A dyma flaenoriaid
buddigol y gad.
A milwyr brenhinllys
y nefoedd uwchben,
A llewyrch y bydoedd
dan Arglwydd y nen.
Ffydd duwiol a bywiol
a selog y Saint,
A gobaith credinwyr,
anorfod eu braint,
A chariad yr Iesu,
a burwyd trwy Waed,
A sathra ormesdeyrn
y bydoedd dan draed.
Byth ynddynt y gwelir
gogoniant y Tad,
A datgan Crist ynddynt
orfoledd y gad;
Ceir ynddynt ewyllys
yr Ysbryd mawr Glân,
A'r nefoedd a lenwir
â llonder y gân.
O Grist, dyro inni
ddymuniad ein bron,
A chael i'th holl weision
eu derbyn yn llon
I gwmni dy lân
Apostolion mewn hedd,
A gweled drwy oesoedd
diderfyn dy wedd.
cyf. John Williams (Ab Ithel) 1811-62
Tôn [11.11.11.11]: |
O let us sing vocally,
without a sad heart;
About the merit and gifts
so glorious of our Christ,
And his fond apostles,
their palms and their praise,
Before the throne
in the region of light.
See here are leaders
of the Church undeniably,
And here are victorious
elders of the army.
And soldiers of the royal court
of heaven above,
And the radiance of the worlds
under the Lord of the sky.
The godly and lively and zealous
faith of the saints,
And the hope of believers,
insuperable their privilege,
And the love of Jesus,
that was purified through blood,
Shall trample the tyranny
of worlds underfoot.
Forever shall be seen in them
the glory of the Father,
And Christ declares in them
the jubilation of the battle;
In them is found the will
of the great Holy Spirit,
And heaven shall be filled
with the fullness of the song.
O Christ, grant us
the desire of our breast,
And all thy servants
to be received cheerfully
In the company of thy holy
apostles in peace,
And to see throughout endless
ages thy countenance.
tr. 2025 Richard B Gillion
|
Th'eternal gifts
of Christ the King,
Th'apostles' glory,
let us sing;
And all, with hearts
of gladness, raise
Due hymns of thankful
love and praise.
For they the Churches'
Princes are,
Triumphant Leaders
in the war,
In heavenly Courts
a warrior band,
True lights to lighten
every land.
Theirs is the steadfast
faith of saints,
And hope that never
yields nor faints,
And love of Christ
in perfect glow
That lays the prince
of this world low.
In them the Father's
glory shone,
In them the will
of God the Son,
In them exults
the Holy Ghost,
Through them rejoice
the heav'nly host.
To thee, Redeemer,
now we cry,
That thou wouldst join
to them on high
Thy servants, who
this grace implore,
For ever and
for evermore.
John Mason Neale 1818-66
from the Latin: {Metre: LM 8888] |