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Absalom ei fab, a'i blaid: a chusuri'r eglwys.)
O Arglwydd! amled ydyw'r gwŷr
Y Sydd drallodwyr imi!
A llawer iawn i'm herbyn sydd,
O ddydd i ddydd yn codi.
Dwedai lawer o'r gwrthgyrch blaid
Yn drwm am f'enaid eisoes:
Nid oes iddo yn ei Dduw Ior,
Chwaith mawr ystor o'r einioes.
Tithau, O Arglwydd ymhob man,
Ydwyd yn darian imi:
Fy ogoniant wyt: tu a'r nen,
Y codi 'ymhen i fyny.
Ar Dduw yr Arglwydd a'm holl llais.
Y gelwais yn dosturaidd.
Ac ef a'm clybu i ar frys,
O'i uchel freinllys sanctaidd.
Mi orweddais, ac a gysgais,
Ac mi a godais gwedi:
Canys yr Arglwydd oedd i'm dàl,
I'm cynnal, ac i'm codi.
Nid ofnaf fi, o'r achos hwn,
'Mo fyrddiwn sydd yn barod:
O bobloedd, o'm amgylch yn dyn,
I'm herbyn wedi dyfod.
Cyfod ti Arglwydd, achub fi,
Drwy gosbi fy ngelynion:
Trewaist yr ên,
torraist eu daint,
Er maint yr annuwiolion.
I'r Arglwydd byth (o achos hyn)
Y perthyn iachawdwriaeth:
Ac ar ei bobl y disgyn gwlith
Ei fendith yn dra helaeth.
ofnais, o'r achos hwn :: ofnais, nid gallu dyn
Tonau [MS 8787]:
gwelir: |
his son, and his party: and comforting the church.)
O Lord how many are the men
Who are troublers to me!
And are against me
From day to day rising.
Many said from the rebellious party
Heavily about soul already:
There is for him in his Lord God,
No great store for his lifespan.
Thou, O Lord in every place,
Art a shield to me:
Thou art my glory; towards the sky
Lifting my head up.
On God, the Lord, with my whole voice
I called pitifully:
And he heard me quickly,
From his high, holy, royal court.
I lay, and I slept,
And I arose afterwards:
Since the Lord was keeping me,
To support me, and to raise me.
I shall not fear, therefore,
Myriads that are ready:
Of people, around me tightly,
Against me having come.
Arise thou, Lord, save me,
Through punishing my enemies:
Thou didst strike the jaw,
thou didst break their teeth,
Despite how many the ungodly.
To the Lord always therefore
Belongs salvation:
And on his people descends the dew
Of his blessing very abundantly.
therefore :: not the power of man tr. 2010,25 Richard B Gillion |
1 How num'rous, Lord, of late are grown
the troublers of my peace!
And, as their numbers hourly rise,
so does their rage increase.
2 Insulting they my soul upbraid,
and him whom I adore;
The God in whom he trusts, say they,
shall rescue him no more.
3 But thou, O Lord, art my defense;
on thee my hopes rely;
Thou art my glory, and shalt yet
lift up my head on high.
4 Since whensoe'er in like distress
to God I made my pray'r,
He heard me from his holy hill,
why should I now despair?
5 Guarded by him, I laid me down
my sweet repose to take;
For I through him securely sleep,
through him in safety wake.
6 No force nor fury of my foes
my courage shall confound,
Were they as many hosts as men
that have beset me round.
7 Arise and save me, O my God,
who oft hast owned my cause,
And scattered oft
these foes to me,
and to thy righteous laws.
8 Salvation to the Lord belongs,
he only can defend;
His blessing he extends to all
that on his pow'r depend.
N Tate & N Brady
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