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!