Words: , Halleluiah (Bristol, England: 1745) (Arglwydd, arwain trwy’r anialwch). Translated from Welsh to English by , Hymns on Various Subjects (Carmarthen, Wales: 1771); Williams published another English translation in ’s Collection, circa 1772. Music: Cwm Rhondda, , 1907. Hughes wrote this tune in Tonteg (near Pontypridd), Wales, to commemorate a music festival held in nearby Capel Rhondda, Hopkinstown. It was first performed November 1 that year to Welsh words by Ann Griffiths; in the early days it was simply known as Rhondda, but within a year he changed the name to Cwm Rhondda, used Peter Williams’ translation, and the rest is history. Alternate tunes (some use slightly different endings to the lyrics):
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This hymn was sung, in Welsh, in the Academy Award winning movie How Green Was My Valley (1941). It was sung in English at the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales, in Westminster Abbey, London, September 6, 1997.
The power of this hymn as a shield is illustrated by an allegory of [Welsh preacher] Christmas Evans. “I see the unclean spirit rising like a winged dragon, circling in the air, and seeking for a resting-place. Casting his fiery glances toward a certain neighborhood, he spies a young man in the bloom of life, and rejoicing in his strength, seated in the front of his cart, going for lime. ‘There he is!’ said the old dragon; ‘his veins are full of blood, and his bones of marrow; I will throw into his bosom sparks from hell; I will set all his passions on fire; I will lead him from bad to worse, until he shall perpetrate every sin. I will make him a murderer, and his soul shall sink, never again to rise, in the lake of fire.’ By this time, I see it descend, with a fell swoop toward the earth; but nearer the youth, the dragon, heard him sing,—
‘Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah!
Pilgrim through this barren land…’‘A dry, dry place this,’ says the old dragon; and away he goes. But I see him again hovering about in the air, and casting about for a suitable resting-place. Beneath his eye there is a flowery meadow, watered by a crystal stream; and he descries among the kine a maiden, about eighteen years of age, picking up here and there a beautiful flower. ‘There she is!’ says Apollyon, intent upon her soul: ‘I will poison her thoughts; she shall stray from the paths of virtue; she shall think evil thoughts and become impure; she shall become a lost creature in the great city, and at last, I will cast her down from the precipice into everlasting burnings.’ Again he took his downward flight, but he no sooner came near the maiden, than he heard her sing the following words, with a voice that might have melted the rocks,—
‘Other refuge I have none
Hangs my helpless soul on thee…’Again he turned away defeated. The devil can say, as did the enemies of the reformers, ‘By their songs we are conquered.’”
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