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'Yn awr y mae'r eglwys yn wenfflam; yn awr o dan ei sang, gorff, ystlysau, oriel; yn awr wele Siôn Robert, y crydd troed gam, a'i wraig, gan ddod i lawr o'r sedd ganu i ran isaf a blaenaf yr oriel, yn taro bob yn ail, a heb gymorth annaturiol gan bib-draw, y garol hirfaith a'r hen ffefryn yn disgrifio Addoliad y Brenhinoedd a'r Doethion, a'r Ffoad i'r Aifft, ac anfadrwydd ofnadwy Herod.
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'Now the church is in a blaze, now crammed, body, aisles, gallery, now Shon Robert, the club-footed shoemaker, and his wife, descending from the singing seat to the lower and front part of the gallery, strike up alternately, and without artificial aid of pitch pipe, the long, long carol and old favourite describing the Worship of Kings and of the Wise Men, and the Flight into Egypt, and the terrible wickedness of Herod. The crowds are wholly silent and rapt in admiration. Then the good Rector, and his curate, David Pugh, stand up, and read the Morning Service abbreviated, finishing with the prayer for All Conditions of Men, and the benediction restless and somewhat surging is the congregation during prayers the Rector obliged sometimes to stop short in his office and look direct at some part or persons, but no verbal admonishment. Prayers over, the singers begin again more carols, new singers, old carols in solos, duets, trios, choruses, then silence in the audience, broken at appropriate pauses by the suppressed hum, of delight and approval, till between eight and nine, hunger telling on the singers, the Plygain is over and the Bells strike out a round peal.'
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