Annogaeth i gofio breuolder einios

Yn awr mewn ieuanc oedran,
  Da cofio Duw sancteiddlan;
Hyfyrdwch ir i neb ni oes
  Yn niwedd oes annyddan.

Ail ydyw einioes gwaelddyn
  I bedwar tymmor blwyddyn;
Ieuenctid, mebyd, canol oes,
  A henaint croes yn dylyn.

Mae'n fynych awel angau
  Yn gywo'r dail a'r blodau,
Ac weithiau'n difa'r grawn a'r ffrwyth,
  Dan adwyth a dyrnodiau.

Mae nifer o fabanod
  Yn gorwedd yn y beddrod;
Daw'r bach a'r mawr
    o'r gwely pridd,
  Pan ddelo'r dydd cyfarfod.

Heb rinwedd Gwaed
    y Cymmod
  I lwyr lanhâu'r gydwybod,
Ni welir neb yn berffaith iâch:
  Mae pob dyn bach dan bechod.

Nid henaint sydd ei hunan,
  Yn gorwedd mewn daearlan:
Yn fynych iawn, mewn blodau oed,
  Gwyr ieuainc rhoed i'r graian.

Mae angau'n elyn arfog,
  Arswydus iawn i'r euog:
Rhag ofn i'w saeth wneud rhwygfa'n sur
  Y cryna gwKr coronog.

Yn nydd yr adgyfodiad
  Y gwelir llawn amlygiad;
Pwy fydd wir ddoeth,
    pwy fedd ar ddawn
  Y cywyr iawn arweiniad?

Ystyried pob rhyw blentyn
  Pa beth à ddylai ddylyn:
Ai cynghor gwr
    sy'n rhoddwr hael,
  Ai gweniaith gwael y gelyn.

I'r dynion anghrediniol
  Mae poenau tost uffernol;
Cartrefle blin anufudd blant;
  Caer adamant dragwyddol!

I'r hyfryd oror dirion
  Dêg Iesu dwg ei weision;
Caer Salem lân, crisialaidd lŷs:
  Goreulys ei garolion.

Now in a young age,
  Remember well sacredly holy God;
The long delight to no-one is
  The end of an unhappy life.

Another is the life of a base man
  For four seasons of a year;
Youth, boyhood, middle age,
  And contrary old age following.

Often is the breeze of death
  Withering the leaves and the flowers,
And sometimes the grain and the fruit decays
  Under the adversity and blows.

A number of babies are
  Lying in the tomb;
Small and great shall come
    from the bed of soil,
  When the day of meeting comes.

Without the merit of the Blood
    of the Reconciliation
  To completely cleanse the conscience,
No-one is to be seen perfectly whole:
  Every little man is under sin.

Old age is not itself
  Lying in an earth enclosure:
Very often, in the flowers of age,
  Young men are put into the gravel.

Death is an armed enemy,
  Very horrific to the guilty:
Lest his arrow make a bitter rending
  The crowned man trembles.

In the nest of the resurrection
  Is to be seen full evidence;
Who shall be truly wise,
    who possessed of the gift
  Of the very true leading?

Let every kind of child consider
  What he should follow:
Whether the counsel of a man
    who is a generous giver,
  Or the base flattery of the enemy.

For the unbelieving man
  There are sore, infernal pains;
The dwelling-place of disobedient children;
  A firm eternal fortress!

To the delightful frontier of lands
  Fair Jesus shall lead his servants;
Holy Jerusalem, a crystal court:
  The supreme court of his carols.