[Lioar dy Hymnyn - English translation


HYMN 45. C. M.

[Stoop down my thoughts that us'd to rise.]

Watts II.28

? same title - not sure re translation

1 TE atchim dou dy smooinaghtyn
Er annym obbys grayse ;
Cre'n trimshey nee eh gennaghtyn,
Ny lhie er 'thiabbee vaaish !

2 E chorp lane pianyn as angaish,
E ennal gaase ny skiare:
As chea er-sooyllesh accan baaish,
E hengey fegooish glare.

3 Myr t'eh goll roish er broogh yn ooir,
Ta'n annym lhiastey shooyl:
Derrey ta'n baase myr thooilley vooar,
Cur Lesh yn dreih er-sooyl.

4 Eisht chion as agglagh, t'eh goll sheese
Gys aile er son dy brâ !
Fud Jouill, as yn chloan chaillit neesht,
Yn spyrryd agglagh craa !

5 Shen raad ta sheshaght treih dy liooar,
Lane dooid mygeayrt-y-moo,
T'ad geam ec surranse pianyn mooar,
Agh fieau som torchagh smoo.

6 As ga dy vel nyn bianyn wheesh,
Cha vow ad daue pardoon ;
As myghin Yee cha gow erreeish,
Jeh'n accan hrimshagh t'ayn.

7 O myghin vooar nagh yiare mee sheese,
Nagh cheau mee gys toyrt-mow !
Roish hooar mee tushtey cooie jeh Creest,
E ghraih neesht soilshit dou.

Stoop down, my thoughts, that use to rise,
Converse awhile with death;
Think how a gasping mortal lies,
And pants away his breath.

His quiv'ring lip hangs feebly down,
His pulses faint and few;
Then, speechless, with a doleful groan
He bids the world adieu.

But O! the soul that never dies!
At once it leaves the clay!
Ye thoughts, pursue it where it flies,
And track its wondrous way.

Up to the courts where angels dwell,
It mounts triumphant there;
Or devils plunge it down to hell,
In infinite despair.

And must my body faint and die?
And must this soul remove?
O for some guardian angel nigh,
To bear it safe above!

Jesus, to thy dear faithful hand
My naked soul I trust,
And my flesh waits for thy command
To drop into my dust.


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Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received The Editor
HTML Transcription © F.Coakley , 2002