Rev. Elvet Lewis'
translation:
Blessed Jesus, march victorious
With Thy sword fixed at Thy side;
Neither death nor hell can hinder
The God-Warrior in His ride.]

"IN EDEN--O THE MEMORY!"

_Yn Eden cofiaf hyny byth!_

The text, "He was wounded for our transgressions," is amplified in this
hymn, and the Saviour is shown bruising Himself while bruising the
serpent.

The first stanza gives the key-note,--

In Eden--O the memory!
What countless gifts were lost to me!
My crown, my glory fell;
But Calvary's great victory
Restored that vanished crown to me;
On this my songs shall dwell;

--and the multitude of Williams' succeeding "songs" that chant the same
theme shows how well he kept his promise. The following hymn in Welsh
(_Cymmer, Jesu fi fel'r ydwyf_) antedates the advice of Dr. Malan to
Charlotte Elliott, "Come just as you are"--

Take me as I am, O Saviour,
Better I can never be;
Thou alone canst bring me nearer,
Self but draws me far from Thee.
I can never
But within Thy wounds be saved;

--and another (_Mi dafla maich oddi ar fy ngway_) reminds us of Bunyan's
Pilgrim in sight of the Cross:

I'll cast my heavy burden down,
Remembering Jesus' pains;
Guilt high as towering mountain tops
Here turns to joyful strains.

* * * * *

He stretched His pure white hands abroad,
A crown of thorns He wore,
That so the vilest sinner might
Be cleansed forevermore;

Williams was called "The Sweet Singer of Wales" and "The Watts of Wales"
because he was the chief poet and hymn-writer of his time, but the lady
he married, Miss Mary Francis, was _literally_ a singer, with a voice so
full and melodious that the people to whom he preached during his
itineraries, which she sometimes shared with him, were often more moved
by her sweet hymnody than by his exhortations. On one occasion the good
man, accompanied by his wife, put up at Bridgend Tavern in Llangefin,
Anglesea, and a mischievous crowd, wishing to plague the "Methodists,"
planned to make night hideous in the house with a boisterous
merry-making. The fiddler, followed by a gang of roughs, pushed his way
to the parlor, and mockingly asked the two guests if they would "have a
tune."

"Yes," replied Williams, falling in with his banter, "anything you like,
my lad; 'Nancy Jig' or anything else."

And at a