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2.
Past the stone when I resort, In the meadow how we'll sport,
On the settle,
Round the kettle, How we'll chat, and sing and court When that week of weeks is back With what joy I'll take the track Upward, upward as I spring, Heart and foot in time shall ring ;
Whilst a present,
Fine and pleasant, To my mother lone I bring. |
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Cajodd Gormes farwol glwy, Tuduryw ein brenin mwy,
Ffolyw ceisio,
Neu ddyfcisio, Brenin avail meddynt hwy. Locrwen Ian fy aelwyd gut Arfy nhaith Wwyf ify nhy, Cwyd y " Ddraig " ar Graig y don, Deffro dclyn Cymrit Ion :
Gwyr y cennin,
Medd y brenin, Gariodd iddo'r goron Hon ! |
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H. 4868. |
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