Aber 2017 Seminar on Williams Pantycelyn

The only non plenary session I have attended in this last week in Aber is an excellent paper on Wales's greatest hymn writer William Williams, given by local man Gwyn Davies. Gwyn is an indidividual and this was a highly interactive lecture that was designed chiefly to draw attention to Pantycelyn and his wonderful hymns and other writings, that have been translated into English (ie The experience meeting and parts of Theomemphus). The lecture included a little moan about the modest three piece combo employed in the main meetings here. I don't think any Pantycelyn hymns have been sung in the main sessions this week.
The seminar is accessible onYouTube here.

Here is a less familiar translation of one of his Welsh hymns (best known in Bobi Jones' version In Eden sad indeed that day). I've had a go myself too.


Can I forget bright Eden’s grace,
My beauteous crown and princely place,
All lost, all lost to me?
Long as I live I’ll praise and sing
My wondrous all-restoring King,
Victor of Calvary.

Lo! Faith, behold the place, the tree
Wheron the Prince of Heaven, for me,
All innocent, was nailed;
One here has crushed the dragon’s might;
Two fell, but One has won the fight;
Christ Jesus has prevailed.

In Eden, this I'll long review - 
The blessings lost, more than the dew,
How my good crown fell too.
But victory on Calvary
Back again to him has won me - 
I'll sing while life I see.

On Calvary, as heat strength drains,
Our great High Priest he feels death's pains,
And blood flows from his veins;
Righteousness mine, there is no fee;
The books of heaven are cleared we see,
With no demand on me.

(Yn Eden, cofiaf hynny byth,
Bendithion gollais rîf y gwlith,
Syrthiodd fy nghoron wiw;
Ond buddugoliaeth Calfari
Enillodd hon yn ôl imi,
Mi ganaf tra fwyf byw.

Ar Galfarî, yng gwres y dydd,
Y caed y gwystl mawr yn rhydd,
Trwy golli gwaed yn lli';
Does dim heb dalu, rhoddwyd iawn
Nes clirio llyfrau'r nef yn llawn
Heb ofyn dim i mi.)

Hymns Pantycelyn 09

Headed 'The Best Treasure' this is 28 in Hosanna to the Son of David

Gloomy darkness now approaches,
As a horrid deluge, o'er
The creation which shall perish
In oblivion evermore.
The elements shall to their former
Rude and messy chaos turn,
And the starry hosts of Heaven
In the conflagration burn.

Other worlds I must inhabit,
There where time imperial reigns,
And in streams of endless pleasures
Overflow the eternal plains ;
Ocean without bounds or limits,
A beginning or an end,
Millions of revolving ages
Can't it's vastness comprehend.

In those mansions ends my journey,
Where my God sits on the Throne,
And my dearest Mediator
For his brethren does atone.
O what pleasures! O what comforts
Shall detain my ling'ring Flight
From a world of woe and trouble
To the realms of purest light!

All the creatures in connection
Loudly summon, "Come away,
Thou thy precious time hast loiter'd
Careless on the narrow way."
Every tongue now bids me hasten
On the wing whilst I have breath,
Lest the shades of night eternal
Draw the curtain o'er in death.

Have the glorious luminaries,
From their rising to their set,
In the vast extensive heavens
With such object ever met?
Are their treasures in the mountains,
Or the bottom of the sea,
In the thousandth part as precious
As my dear Redeemer be?

Hymns Pantycelyn 08

This translation from the Welsh is Number 24 in Hosanna to the Son of David and is headed 'Free grace'.

Thous who bestowest pardon free
On guilty sinners such as me,
My humble claim to Heaven above
Is, Jesus, in thy dying love.

If all my goods I would bestow
To feed the helpless, poor and low
And give my body to the flame,
Would that exalt thy holy Name?

Or should I preach thy Gospel-Word,
Convert some millions to my Lord,
And o'er my sins a conqu'rer be
What gain, what profit this to Thee?

What I receiv'd is all thy own,
Thy grace, thy glory and thy crown;
What now I am, what I have been
Is all but filthiness and sin.

My Saviour freely doth bestow
His gift upon the poor and low ;
And all is free, and all is love,
Both from beneath and from above.

Hymns Pantycelyn 07

This is number 24 (in Gloria in Exclesis)

Come, Jesus, haste, make no delay,

Conduct me in the narrow way,
That leads unto the Promis'd Land;
Be my Conductor and my Guide,
I'm weak, and prone to turn aside
From thy most holy pure command.

Ten thousand objects here are found
To tempt and tease me all around,
To steal my thoughts combin'd in one
Lord, show thyself; a glimpse of Thee
Excels all objects fair to me,
Thyself most beautiful alone.

How sweet are all things that are Thine,
Thy comforts are delicious wine;
Thou art the only God and Friend:
Thy absence is a horrid night,
Thy presence is a pure delight,
A blessed feast without an end.

Thy beauties in sweet order shine
With glorious lustre, all divine ;
Sweeter thy love than can be known;
My life, O Saviour, let me spend,
From the beginning to the end,
Gazing upon Thyself alone.

Hymns Pantycelyn 06

This is the third part of a series of hymns and is numbered 19 in Hosanna to the Son of David.

What is the world, and what is life,
And what are honours vain,
When Thou art absent from my soul,
But only grief and pain ?

I ask not those seraphic flames
That ravish thrones above,
Nor what the perfect spirits taste
Of that immortal love.

But bliss that Thou art wont to give,
And promis'd in thy Word ;
Communion with Thyself alone
Is all I want, my LORD.

O! let me see those beams of light,
Feel that celestial spark,
That veils the beauties of the world
In an eternal dark.

One drop of that o'erflowing stream,
That angels taste above,
One smile from my Redeemer's face
Would kindle all to love.

And make the passage of my life,
Tho' rough, but smooth and bright,
Direct my slow unconstant steps
Unto the realms of light.

Hymns Pantycelyn 05

This fourteenth hymn (like the thirteenth) is on the cross.

Ye Sons of Men, lift up your Heads,

The greatest Wonder see,

Jesus the Saviour and the God
Nail'd to the cursed tree.

He brought in life, immortal, pure,
By his redeeming grace,
Pardon and holiness and bliss,
For the believing race.

Grim death here lost its poisonous dart,
By spilling precious blood ;
Hell swallowed up in victory,
Now man enjoys his God.

O Mystery ! That life should spring
From death that mortal foe;
And cruel death to Jesus should
Deliver us from woe.

My God, my God! How couldst thou die
For poor and worthless me ?
I am astonish'd, and must say
That all thy grace is free.

O shall Worms presume to understand
The secrets of his love?
Reason is mute, and all the choir
Of Cherubim above.

Hymns Pantycelyn 04

This twelfth hymn deals with contentment.

Why should ambition proud and vain

Our deathless souls invade?
And discontentment e'er prevail
To starve our tender blade?

If wealth's our aim, the more we seek
The greater is our pain;
Ambition blind disturbs our rest,
Embitters all our gain.

Thus wearied of the carnal mind,
I earnestly do groan,
And nothing wish beside Thyself,
Thou art enough alone.

Had I the world and all its wealth,
Its pleasures and its gain,
Without Thyself the greatest bliss,
All other were but vain.

My heavy-laden soul would wish
Its rest in Thee to find;
'Tis only Thou that can compose
My ever roving mind.

Hymns Pantycelyn 03

This is number 6 and is headed The atonement. I have altered the word 'immerg'd' to 'immers'd' in line 1.

My soul thou art immers'd in Sin,
So deep that none can trace;
Look to the ransom God decreed
To clear the guilty race.

The Atonement made once on the Tree,
Can balance many more
Than all the Sins of Adam's race,
If number'd o'er and o'er.

He paid the mighty sum and died
For Sinners yet unborn;
From men, the works of his own hands,
He suffer'd shame and scorn.

Had I the guilt of all the world,
He's able to forgive:
Why should I fear? The Debt is paid
If only I believe.

Hymns Pantycelyn 02

This is the third hymn in HTTSOD headed Love unspeakable. (Above, the house where Pantycelyn lived. I once visited there with a friend and was kindly shown a lock of Pantycelyn's red hair by the couple living there).

The enormous load of human guilt
Was on my Saviour laid;
With woes, as with a garment, he
For sinners was array'd.

And in the horrid pangs of death
He wept. He pray'd for me,
Lov'd and embrac'd my guilty soul
When nailed to the tree.

О love amazing ! love beyond
The reach of human tongue;
Love which shall be the subject of
An everlasting song.

Eternity, though infinite,
Is short enough to trace
The virtues of his healing wounds,
The wonders of his grace.

Ye Men rejoice in Jesu's blood,
Ye angels, join your lays,
In one harmonious endless choir
Sing his eternal praise.

Hymns Pantycelyn 01

"Hosannah to the Son of David; or Hymns of Praise to God for our glorious redemption by Christ. Some few translated from the Welsh Hymn Book, but mostly composed on new subjects" is the first collection of hymns in English by William Williams Pantycelyn. It was first published in 1759. This is the second of the 51 hymns there.

My Saviour is my only life.
My treasure is his cross;
And everything besides himself
Is emptiness and loss.

Here treasure lies ; whoever hath,
He thirsts, he wants no more;
And yet professes still to be
Both indigent and poor.

He stays himself upon the Rock
Of his Redeemer's breast,
Where envious Satan, death, or hell
Can ne'er disturb his rest.

Come, sinners, then, in numerous throngs.
The blind, the halt, the poor,
To Jesus, wretched as ye are,
And ye shall fear no more.

Nor qualify nor first compose
Yourselves into a frame,
Which would you do a thousand times
You would be just the same.

Come, then, a sinner as thou art,
A miserable one,
And thou shalt find th' atoning blood
Thy comfort here alone.