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Dyn dyeithr ydwyf yma


(Thought to have been suggested to the seraphic Bard, Williams, of Pantycelyn, by the approach of Columbus to the shores of the Western Continent.)

Here I am a passing stranger,

Far away my native land;

O’er the wide and stormy ocean,

Where lies Canaan’s happy strand.


Raging storms of strong temptation

Drove me from my home astray:

Bear me, balmy southern breezes,

To its verdant shores away!

Spite of waves and counter-currents

Rolling o’er me from each side,

Through the seas and storms opposing,

I shall stem the swelling tide.

Than the floods thy word is stronger—

Stronger than the ’whelming wave:

All my hope I calmly venture

On thy promise, Lord, to save.

Not much longer must I battle

With the billows thus forlorn,

Land is nigh, each faithful promise

Shews how nigh Salvation’s morn.

Not the deep shall be my dwelling:—

Joyful shall my spirit come,

When the seas have cleansed and proved me,

To my loved eternal Home.

Yea, methinks I catch already

Fragrant perfumes from the land,

Wafted by celestial breezes;

Surely it is near at hand.

O could I its coast discover,

Blessed country free from strife;

There my dearest friends are dwelling,

There is everlasting life!

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