Y mae gwedd dy wyneb grasol

(Rhagoroldeb gwir Grefydd)
Y mae gwedd dy wyneb grasol,
  Yn rhagori llawer iawn,
Ar bob peth a welodd llygaid,
  Ar hyd wyneb daear lawn;
    Rhosyn Saron,
  Ti yw tegwch
       nef y nef. 
 
'Rwy'n dy garu er nas gwelais,
  Mae dy gariad fel y tân,
Nis gall nwydau cryfa' natur,
  Sefyll mymryn bach o'th flaen;
    Fflam angerddol,
  Ryw bryd ddifa'm sorod yw.

Aed y nos derfysglyd heibio,
  Doed y bore cyn bo hir,
Pan y caffo'm henaid wledda,
  Yn y Ganaan hyfryd bur;
    Gyda myrddiwn,
   O'i rai anwyl ffyddlawn ef.

O gwasgerwch dew gymylau,
  I'r addewid rhoddwch le,
Nid i'r ddaear yma'm ganwyd,
  Tragwyddoldeb yw fy lle;
    'Nol tywyllwch,
  Côd o'r diwedd fore wawr.

Mi ddymunwn wel'd yn rhwygo,
  Holl gymylau du y nef,
I bechadur weled gronyn,
  O'i ogoniant hyfryd ef;
    O datguddia,
  I mi ran o'th enw mawr.

           - - - - -
   1,2,3;  1,2,4,5;  1,4,6.

Y mae gwedd dy wyneb grasol
  Yn rhagori llawer iawn,
Ar bob peth a welodd llygad
  Ar hyd wyneb daear lawn:
    Rhosyn Saron,
  Ti yw tegwch
        nef y nef.

Gwyn a gwridog yw f'anwylyd,
  Mae'n rhagori oll i gyd,
Ar y cwbl etto grëwyd
  Yn y wybr faith a'r byd:
    Bodlon fyddaf,
  Ond cael edrych ar ei wedd.

Mae angelion yn cael bywyd,
  Yn ei ddwyfol nefol hedd;
Ac yn sugno'u holl bleserau
  Oddiwrth olwg ar ei wedd:
    Byd o heddwch,
  Yw cael aros yn ei wydd.

Nid yw harddwch maith y ddaear,
  Harddwch o wahanol ryw,
Tegwch dysglaer y ffurfafen,
  Ddim, wrth ochr Iesu'm Duw:
    Fe ddiflana,
  Tegwch natur ger ei fron.

Ac os yw ei degwch yma
  Yn rhoi myrdd i'w garu'n awr,
Beth a wna ei degwch hyfryd
  Fry yn nhrag'wyddoldeb mawr?
    Nef y nefoedd,
  Ei ryfeddu byth a wna.

Mi ddymunwn wel'd yn rhwygo
  Holl gymylau du y nef,
Fel y gallwyf weled gronyn
  O'i ogoniant hyfryd Ef:
    O! dadguddia,
  Degwch llon
        dy wyneb pryd.
William Williams 1717-91

Tonau [878747]:   Lewes (John Randall 1717-99)
Verona (alaw Eidalaeg)

gwelir:
  Aed y nos derfysglyd heibio
  Ar ddisgwylfa uchel gribog
  Boed fy nghalon iti'n demel
  Gwyn a gwridog yw fy Arglwydd
  Iesu Iesu wyt yn ddigon
  Mi ddymunwn wel'd yn rhwygo
  Nid o'r ddaear mae fy mhleser
  O gwasgerwch dew gymylau
  'Rwy'n dy garu er nas gwelais

(The Excellence of true Belief)
The countenance of thy gracious face is
  Very much better
Than everything that eyes have seen,
  Across the face of the whole earth;
    Rose of Sharon,
  Thou art the fairness of
        the heaven of heaven.

I love thee although I never saw thee,
  Thy love is like the fire,
Nor can the strongest lusts of nature
  Stand a short moment before thee;
    A passionate flame,
  Some time devouring my dross it is.
 
May the tumultuous night go past,
  Let the morning come before long,
When my soul may get to feast,
  In the pure, delightful Canaan;
    With myriads,
  Of those faithful dear ones of his.

O scatter, ye thick clouds,
  To the promise give ye way,
Not for this earth am I born,
  Eternity is my place;
    After darkness,
  Rise at last morning dawn.

I would wish to see rending,
  All the black clouds of heaven,
For a sinner to see a grain,
  Of his delightful glory;
    O reveal,
  To me a part of thy great name.

                - - - - -
 

The countenance of thy gracious face is
  Very much better
Than every thing the eye ever saw
  Across the face of the whole earth:
    Rose of Sharon,
  Thou art the fairness of
        the heaven of heaven.

White and ruddy is my beloved,
  He is altogether better
Than everything yet created
  In the vast sky and the world:
    I shall be satisfied,
  Only to get to look on his countenance.

Angels are getting to live,
  In his divine, heavenly peace;
And to suck all their pleasures
  From the look on his countenance:
    A world of tranquility,
  Is to get to stay in his presence.

The vast beauty of the earth,
  Beauty of a different kind,
The radiant fairness of the firmament,
  Are nothing, beside Jesus my God:
    The fairness,
  Of nature shall vanish before him.

And if his fairness here
  Gives a myriad to love him now,
What shall his delightful fairness above
  Do in a great eternity?
    The heaven of heavens,
  Shall make it wonder forever.

I wish to see rending
  All the black clouds of heaven,
Thus I may see a grain
  Of his delightful glory:
    O reveal,
  The cheerful fairness
        of thy countenance.
tr. 2019 Richard B Gillion

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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