Er mai gormodd, wr noddawl,
Yw rhif deg rh'of fi a diawl;
Deuddeg o chaf ni'm diddawr,
Ni'ch difwyn, y gwr mwyn mawr;
Hyny dâl, heb ry sal bris,
Lawer o Ffrancod Lewis,[1]
PROEST CADWYNODL BOGALOG,
A math o watworgerdd yw, ar yr hen Englyn bogalog, O'i wiw wy i weu e a, &c.
O'i wiw wy a weu a e,
Ieuan o ia, ai e, yw?
Ai o au weuau a we
A'i au i wau ei we wyw?
CYWYDD Y CYNGHORFYNT,[2] NEU'R GENFIGEN.
[Mewn llythyr at Lewis Morris, dyddiedig "Salop. July 30, 1752," dywed y Bardd:—"I am infected with a contagious distemper, called Scribendi cacoethes; for I make bold to trouble you with one more cywydd—the subject I thought of writing upon ever since Cottyn was pleased to accuse me of plagiar- ism; but I reserved it till I should have some new measure to write in; but, despairing of that, I am resolved to put it together in some sort of cywydd none of the best, I am sensible, for I had no time."]
