Trig gyda mi fy Nuw mae'r dydd yn ffoi

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8;  1,2,(4),6,8.
(Gweddi am bresenoldeb Crist)
Trig gyda mi,
    fy Nuw, mae'r dydd yn ffoi,
Cysgodau'r hwyr
    o'm hamgylch sy'n crynh˘i;
  Diflana nerth
      y ddaear hon, a'i bri,
  Cynorthwy'r gwan,
      O! aros gyda mi.

Yn brysio at
    ei derfyn mae fy nydd,
Mwynhâd y byd
    a'i barch yn cilio sydd;
  Yn wyw a gwael
      try pob peth; ond Tydi,
  Y Digyfnewid,
      aros gyda mi.

Nid digon gair,
    na brysiog wel'd Dy wedd,
Ond gwna Dy drigfan
    gyda mi mewn hedd,
  Yn ostyngedig,
      addfwyn, gyfaill cu,
  Nid fel ymdeithydd,
      aros gyda mi.

Bydd yma, nid
    fel Brenin i greu braw,
Ond mewn llawn hedd,
    ˆ doniau yn Dy law,
  O râs yn llawn,
      a chalon at bob cri,
  Tyr'd, Ffrynd troseddwyr,
      aros gyda mi.

Ti wênaist arnaf
    yn moreuddydd oes,
Tra'r oeddwn i'n
    wrthnysig iawn, a chroes;
  Yn fyddlon buost,
      er im' D'adael Di;
  I'r diwedd, Arglwydd,
      aros gyda mi.

Rhaid im' gael gwel'd
    Dy wedd bob awr heb ball,
'Beth ond Dy râs a
    faedda rym y fall?
  Pwy'm deil i'r làn,
      a'm harwain, fel Tydi?
  Yn mhob rhyw dywydd
      aros gyda mi.

Nid ofnaf ing,
    na gelyn, nac un gwae,
Os câf, fy Nuw,
    yn unig Dy fwynhau;
  Pa le mae angeu'?
      P'le mae'r erchyll fedd?
  Gorchfygaf hwynt trwy
      rîn Dy nefol wedd.

Rho wel'd Dy groes
    yn yr Iorddonen gref,
Trwy'r niwl, cyfeiria'm
    golwg tua'r nef;
  Tỳr gwawr y nef,
      cysgodau'r hwyr a ffŷ,
  Wrth fyw, wrth farw,
      aros gyda mi.
cyf. John Roberts (Ieuan Gwyllt) 1822-77

Tonau []:
Bartholdy (Felix Mendelssohn 1809-47)
Berlin (Felix Mendelssohn 1809-47)
Ellers (E J Hopkins 1818-1901)
Emyn Hwyrol / Eventide (W H Monk 1823-89)
Troyte's Chant (A H D Troyte 1811-57)

(Prayer for the presence of Christ)
Dwell with me, my God,
    the day is fleeing,
The shadows of evening
    around me are gathering;
  The strength of this earth
      is disappearing, and its honour,
  Help of the weak,
      oh stay with me!

Hurrying to its end
    is my day,
The world's enjoyment
    and its esteem is retreating;
  Wizened and base
      turns everything; but Thou,
  The Unchanging One,
      stay with me!

A word is not enough,
    nor a hurried sight of Thy face,
But make Thy residence
    with me in peace,
  As a humble,
      gentle, dear friend,
  Not as a sojourner,
      stay with me!

Be here, not as
    a King to create fear,
But in full peace,
    with gifts in Thy hand,
  Full of grace,
      and a heart to every cry,
  Come, Friend of sinners,
      stay with me!

Thou hast smiled upon me
    in the morning of my life,
While I was very
    stubborn and contrary;
  Faithful thou hast been,
      despite my leaving Thee;
  To the end, Lord,
      stay with me!

I must get to see Thy face
    every hour before failing,
What but Thy grace shall
    beat the force of the pestilence?
  Who will hold me up,
      and lead me, but Thou?
  In every kind of weather
      stay with me!

I shall not fear agony,
    nor enemy, not any woe,
If I may get, my God,
    only to experience Thee;
  Where is death?
      Where is the hideous grave?
  I shall overcome them through
      the merit of Thy heavenly face.

Grant to see Thy cross
    in the strong Jordan,
Through the fog,
    direct my sight towards heaven;
  The dawn of heaven breaks,
      the shadows of the evening flee,
  While living, while dying,
      stay with me.
tr. 2013,15 Richard B Gillion
Abide with me!
    fast falls the eventide,
The darkness deepens -
    Lord, with me abide!
  When other helpers fail,
      and comforts flee,
  Help of the helpless,
      oh, abide with me!

Swift to its close
    ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim,
    its glories pass away;
  Change and decay
      in all around I see;
  O Thou who changest not,
      abide with me.

I need Thy presence
    every passing hour,
What but Thy grace
    can foil the tempter's power?
  Who, like Thyself,
      my guide and stay can be?
  Through cloud and sunshine,
      oh, abide with me!

Not a brief glance
    I beg, a passing word;
But as Thou dwell'st
    with Thy disciples, Lord,
  Familiar, condescending,
      patient, free.
  Come, not to sojourn,
      but abide with me!

Come not in terrors,
    as the King of kings,
But kind and good,
    with healing in Thy wings,
  Tears for all woes,
      a heart for every plea,
  Come, friend of sinners,
      thus abide with me!

Thou on my head
    in early youth didst smile;
And though rebellious
    and perverse meanwhile,
  Thou hast not left me,
      oft as I left Thee,
  On to the close,
      O Lord, abide with me!

I fear no foe
    with Thee at hand to bless:
Ills have no weight,
    and tears no bitterness.
  Where is death's sting?
      Where, grave, thy victory?
  I triumph still,
      if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross
    before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom,
    and point me to the skies;
  Heaven's morning breaks,
      and earth's vain shadows flee!
  In life, in death,
      O Lord, abide with me!
1847 Henry Francis Lyte 1793-1847

Tunes []:
Abide with me (1847 H F Lyte 1793-1847)
Evening Hymn / Eventide (W H Monk 1823-89)
Morecambe (1870 F C Atkinson 1841-96)
Penitentia (Edward Dearle 1806-91)

The middle column is a literal translation of the Welsh. A Welsh translation is identified by the abbreviation 'cyf.' (emulation by 'efel.'), an English translation by 'tr.'

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