The Ash Grove - Llwyn Onn

Melody - from Wales

"Llwyn Onn" or "The Ash Grove" was originally a Welsh harp melody. Since 1802 a variety of Welsh and English words have been written for it.

Talhaiarn (John Jones, 1810-1870)

1. Gogoniant i Gymru,
Anwylwlad fy nhadau,
Pe medrwn mawrygwn
Dy fawredd a'th fri;
Mae'r awen yn caru
Dy wedd a'th rinweddau,
Hoff fammaeth athrylith
A dewrder wyt ti;
Bu amser pan hoffai
T'wysogion dy delyn,
A'i sain a gyffroai
Wrolion y gâd.
I ruthro'n ddisymwth
Ar warchae y gelyn,
Gan ymladd dros rhyddid
A breintiau ein gwlad.

2. Fy henwlad fendigaid,
Mae anian yn urddo,
Pob mynydd a dyffryn,
Pob clogwyn a glyn!
Ac yspryd prydferthwch
A'i liw yn goleuo
Pob afon ac aber,
Pob llanerch a llyn;
Gwladgarwch a rhinwedd
Fendithiant dy enw,
Dy feibion a'th ferched
A garant dy fri;
Gorhoffedd dy feibion
Yw denu dy sylw ---
Er gwaethaf pob gelyn
Ein testyn wyt ti.
1. All hail to thee, Cambria,
The land of my fathers,
I would I could make thee
Immortal in song.
Thy virtues the muse from
Thy history gathers,
Thou cradle of genius
And home of the strong.
The strains of thy minstrels
Were pure as thy fountains,
They hallowed thy glory,
Joy, sorrow and strife.
Thy proud-hearted warriors
Have roamed o'er thy mountains,
And fought in thy valleys
For freedom and life.

2. All hail to the country
Where nature discloses
Her charms in each valley
And heath-covered hill,
'Mid scenes where the spirit
Of Beauty reposes
In dell, rock and mountain,
Lake, river, and rill;
Shall thy children disown thee
And leave thee to perish?
Or tarnish the glory
That circles thy fame?
No, no, --- In their hearts thy
Bright forms they will cherish
And truth and affection
Will cling to thy name.

Talhaiarn (John Jones, 1810-1870)

1. T'wyned yr haul ar
Aneddle fy mebyd,
Llawon a disglair fo
Bwthyn "Llwyn Onn";
Anwyl i nghalon
Yw ty fy rhieni,
Nythle dedwyddyd
A haulwen fy mron;
Pell y trafeilinis
Dros donau yr eigion,
Gan adail fy rhiaint,
Fy ngheraint, a'm gwlad;
O na fai genyf
Chwim edyn y wennol,
Ehedwn yn ol at
Fy mam a fy nhad.

2. Blin yw fy yspryd
Pan fyddo yn huno,
Hiraeth a'm leinw
Fel tôn ar al tôn ---
Llais hen gyfeillion
A glywaf mewn breuddwyd,
Gwelaf hwy'n chwareu
Wrth fwthyn "Llwyn Onn";
Gwlyb yw fy ngruddiau
Wrth ddeffro bob boreu,
O Trwm yw fy nghalon,
A mawr yw fy nghlwyf:
Gofid a galar sy'n
Ysu fy nwyfron,
A dychwel i'm cartref
Nis gallaf byth mwy.

1. Shine, blessed sun,
On the home of my boyhood,
Bright be thy rays
On the ancient "Ash Grove";
Dear to my heart is
The home of my parents,
Home of my infancy,
Home of my love;
Far, far away I have
Sailed o'er the ocean,
Still guided by fate
On the wings of unrest;
Oh! that I had the swift
Wings of the swallow,
To fly to my home,
To return to my nest.

2. Here in the night when
I'm sleeping and dreaming,
Far, far away in
The Land of the West;
Innocent friends of
My childhood surround me,
Visions of happiness
Lull me to rest:
Ah! when I wake with
A start in the morning,
Bedewed are my cheeks
As I silently mourn;
Longing for home and my
Youthful companions, ---
How hopeless the wish!
I shall never return.

1. Yn Nyffryn Llwyn Onn draw
Mi welais hardd feinwen
A minnau'n hamddena
'rol byw ar y don;
Gwyn ewyn y lli oedd
Ei gwisg, a disgleirwen
A'r glasfor oedd llygaid
Gwen harddaf Llwyn Onn.
A ninnau'n rhodianna
Drwy'r lonydd i'r banna,
Sibrydem i'n gilydd
Gyfrinach byd serch;
A phan ddaeth hi'n adeg
Ffarwelio a'r wiwdeg,
Roedd tannau fy nghalon
Yng ngofal y ferch.

2. Cyn dychwel i borthladd
Wynebwn y tonnau,
Ond hyfryd yw'r hafan
'rol dicter y don;
Bydd melys anghofio
Her greulon y creigiau ---
Un felly o'wn innau
'rol cyrraedd Llwyn Onn.
A thawel mordwyo
Wnaf mwyach a Gwenno
Yn llong fach ein bwthyn
A hi wrth y llyw;
A hon fydd yr hafan
Ddiogel a chryno
I'r morwr a'i Wenno
Tra byddwn ni byw.
1. Down yonder green valley
Where streamlets meander
When twilight is fading
I pensively rove;
Or at the bright noontide
In solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of
The lonely Ash Grove.
'Twas there while the blackbird
Was joyfully singing
I first met my dear one,
The joy of my heart.
Around us for gladness
The bluebells were ringing.
Ah! Little thought I then
How soon we should part.

2. Still glows the bright sunshine
O'er valley and mountain,
Still warbles the blackbird
Its note from the tree;
Still trembles the moonbeam
On streamlet and fountain,
But what are the beauties
Of Nature to me?
With sorrow, deep sorrow,
My bosom is laden,
All day I go mourning
In search of my love;
Ye echoes, o tell me,
Where is the sweet maiden?
"She sleeps 'neath the green turf
Down by the Ash Grove."

perhaps by Ceiriog Hughes

1. Ym Mhalas Llwyn Onn gynt
Fe drigai pendefig,
Efe oedd ysgwier
Ac arglwydd y wlad.
Ac iddo un eneth
A anwyd yn unig,
A hi 'n ôl yr hanes
Oedd aeres ei thad.
Aeth cariad i'w gweled,
Yn lân yn phur lencyn,
Ond codai'r ysgwier
Yn afar ac erch
I saethu'r bachgennyn,
Ond gwyrodd ei linyn
A'i ergyd yn wyrgam
I fynwes ei ferch.

2. Rhy hwyr ydoedd galw
I saeth at y llinyn,
A'r llances yn marw
Yn welw a gwan.
Bygythiodd ei gleddyf,
Trwy galon y llencyn,
Ond ni redai cariad
Un fodfedd o'r fan.
Roedd Golud, ei "darpar,"
Yn hên ac anynad,
A geiriau diweddaf
Yr aeres hardd hon
Oedd "Gwell gennyf farw
Trwy ergyd fy nghariad
Na byw gyda Golud
Ym Mhalas Llwyn Onn."

Tr. 1996 ©Anthony L. Jones, Sydney AU

1. In the grand Ash Grove Palace,
There lived a bold chieftain
And he was a squire
And ruler of the land.
He had a fair daughter
With many to court her
But none would she take for
To give up her hand,
Save her sweetheart, so handsome,
So poor but of pure heart;
Her father unwilling,
And threatening the worst,
Did shoot at the lad,
But the bowstring was twisted
So crooked the arrow
Struck deep in her breast.

2. Too late to recall the
Dart back to the bowstring,
The poor girl lay dying,
So mournful and sad.
In anger, the squire,
His sword at the ready,
Did thrust at the heart of
The unflinching lad.
Oh, Wealth is a master,
So old and so peevish,
And from its cruel clutches
She desperately strove.
"'Tis better to die by
My own lover's side
Than to live in sorrow
In the Palace Ash Grove."

John Oxenford

1. The ash grove, how graceful, how plainly 'tis speaking,
The wind through it playing has language for me.
Whenever the light through its branches is breaking
A host of kind faces is gazing on me.
The friends of my childhood again are before me,
Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam.
With soft whispers laden its leaves rustle o'er me,
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

2. My lips smile no more, my heart loses its lightness,
No dream of my future my spirit can cheer;
I only can brood on the past and its brightness,
The dead I have mourned are again living here.
From ev'ry dark nook they press forward to meet me;
I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome,
And others are there looking downward to greet me;
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

Anne Hunter ~1800

1. |: Sir Watkin intending, the morning befriending,
      Through woodlands descending, to hunt the wild deer, :|
Now slumb'ring of course, sir, and proud of his force, sir,
Dreams of his bay horse, sir, begins his career;
And forth as he sallies, up hills and down valleys,
Around him he rallies a train like a peer.

2. |: His hunter goes featly, his stag-hounds run fleetly,
      The bugle sounds sweetly; they raise a fat doe. :|
Now turning and winding, then losing, then finding,
No obstacle minding, still forward they go.
All danger subduing, impatient pursuing,
With ardour renewing, yet ever too slow.

3. |: Deep woods lay before them, now soon closing o'er them,
      The knight to explore them, dismounting, moves on. :|
There found the doe lying, bemoaning and crying,
As if she were dying, behind a grey stone.
When stopping to raise her, before the dogs seize her,
As brisk as a bee, sir, away she was gone!

4. |: With whoop and with hollo, his merry men follow,
      She skims like a swallow, and flies like the wind. :|
Sir Watkyn, however, who quits the chase never,
Swam over a river, and left them behind.
The day was fast closing, his way he was losing,
The road was so 'posing, no path could he find.

5. |: A castle high frowning, the lofty rock crowning,
      Dim twilight embrowning, hung over his head. :|
And thitherward bending, with steps slow ascending,
The courser attending, he cautiously led.
Now darkness o'ertaking, and crags there was breaking,
He fell, --- and awaking, the vision was fled!

| Deutsche Volkslieder | Ahnenforschung | Ferienaufenthalt | Folksongs | Hymns | Genealogy | Pacific Holiday | HOME PAGE | SEARCH | Email | Bridge | Forum |