Gwyn fyd y dyn a'r fynwes fwyn

Gwyn fyd y dyn a'r fynwes fwyn,
Sy'n gwrando'r tlawd
    pan dd'wedo'i gwyn;
  Trwy gariad a gyd-deimla'n hael,
  Mewn pob turgaredd, at y gwael.

Dymuna'i galon wneuthur mwy,
Nâg all ei ddwylaw, iddynt hwy;
  Mewn ing y gwrendy
      Duw ei gŵyn,
  A dengys iddo gariad mwyn.

Caiff drigo'n dawel dan y nen,
A bendith ddirgel ar ei ben;
  Pan fyddo haint a newyn mawr
  Yn bwrw llu o'i gylch i'r llawr.

Os nychu ar ei wely bydd,
O'i bechod gollwng Duw ê'n rhydd;
  A'i law ei hun fe'i cyfyd ef,
  Neu dwg ei enaid fry i'r Nef.

Blessed is the man with the dear breast,
Who listens to the poor
    when he tells his complaint;
  Through love and sympathising generously,
  In every mercy, towards the poor.

His heart wishes to do more,
Than his hands can, for them;
  In anguish God shall
      listen to his complaint,
  And show him dear love.

He will get to climb quietly under the sky,
With a secret blessing on his head;
  When there be infection and great hunger
  Casting a host around him down.

If become ill on his bed he shall,
From his sin God shall set him free;
  With his own hand he shall raise him,
  Or draw his soul up to heaven.

1 Happy the man whose tender care

    relieves the poor distressed;

  When he's by trouble compassed round

    the Lord shall give him rest.





2 The Lord his life, with blessings crowned,
    In safety shall prolong;
  And disappoint the will of those
    that seek to do him wrong.

3 If he in languishing estate,
    oppressed with sickness lie;
  The Lord will easy make his bed,
    and inward strength supply.