Dyfrllyd olwg dan fy ngwasgfa

Dyfrllyd olwg dan fy ngwasgfa,
  Dröais ar yr orsedd wen,
Gwelwn mewn cyfryngol wisgoedd
  Y Gwr ogwyddodd droswy'i ben;
Dacw fe, eb f'enaid gwirion,
  Medraf ddarllen ar ei wedd,
Fod maddeuant yn ei galon
  I bechadur brwnt - a hedd.

Yna nesais at ei orsedd,
  Ac ymdreiglais at ei draed,
A dadleuais am drugaredd,
  Haeddiant ei rinweddol waed:
Meddwn, Mi dywallta'm calon,
  Mi agora'm hysbryd briw,
A datguddiaf fy archollion,
  Pa'm yr ofnaf, - Iesu yw.

gwelir:
  Chwilio bûm y greadigaeth
  Rhan III - Ac wrth i mi agor iddo

A watery view, under my straits,
  I turned upon the white throne,
I would see in intercessory garments
  The Man who bowed for me his head;
There he is, says my foolish soul,
  I can read on his countenance,
That there is forgiveness in his heart
  For the dirty sinner - and peace.

Then I approached his throne,
  And I fell at his feet,
And I pleaded for mercy,
  The merit of his virtuous blood:
I said, I will pour out my heart,
  I will open my bruised spirit,
And I will reveal my wounds,
  Why shall I fear? - it is Jesus.

On the throne of high possession,
  Through my tears at last I see,
In His robes of intercession,
  Him who bowed the head for me:
'There He is!' my soul exclaimèd,
  'I can read it in His face -
He will never be ashamèd
  To receive me in His grace.'

To His throne my soul proceeded,
  Deigning at His feet to fall;
And for love and pardon pleaded
  Through the blood that saveth all:
'What?' - I mused - 'Should I conceal it,
  All this grief and broken cheer?
Hide the wound while He can heal it?
  It is Christ! - why need I fear?'