A raid i'r Iesu mawr ei hun?

A raid i'r Iesu mawr ei hun
  I ddwyn y groes ddi-fri?
Na, mae ei groes i bob rhyw ddyn,
  Ac y mae croes i mi.

Y gysegredig groes wnaf ddwyn
  Yn ddwel drwy y byd,
Hyd nes caf fyn'd i'm cartref mwyn,
  I wisgo'r goron ddrud.

Mor hardd yw gwedd
    y dyrfa lân,
  Fu gynt fel minau'n brudd,
Sydd fry yn bythol seinio'r gan,
  Heb ddeigryn ar eu grudd.

Wrth draed pwyedig Iesu mawr,
  Ar balmant claer y Nef,
Fy nghoron auraidd ro'f i lawr,
  O barch i'w enw Ef.

Cyd-chwareu eu telynau gwiw
  A wna y dorf ddi-glwy',
I'r Hwn fu farw, sydd yn fyw
  I dragwyddoldeb mwy.

O werthfawr groes! O goron dêr!
  O adgyfodiad ddydd!
Chwi engyl, dygwch uwch y ser
  Yn awr fy enaid prudd.

Must great Jesus himself
  Bear the shameful cross?
No, his cross is for every sort of man,
  And there is a cross for me.

The sacred cross I will bear
  Quietly through the world,
Until I get to go to my dear home,
  To wear the costly crown.

How beautiful is the countenance
    of the holy throng,
  Who once were sad like me,
Who are above forever sounding the song,
  Without a tear on their cheek.

At the wounded feet of great Jesus,
  On the clear pavement of Heaven,
My golden crown I will put down,
  From reverence to His name.

Play together they worthy harps
  Will the healthy throng do,
To Him who died, who is alive
  For evermore.

O precious cross! O bright crown!
  O resurrection day!
Ye angels, bear ye above the stars
  Now my sad soul.

Must Jesus bear the cross alone,
  And all the world go free?
No; there's a cross for every one,
  And there's a cross for me.

The consecrated cross I'll bear,
  Till death shall set me free;
And then go home my crown to wear,
  For there's a crown for me.

How happy are
    the saints above,
  Who once went sorrowing here!
But now they taste unmingled love,
  And joy without a tear.

Upon the crystal pavement, down
  At Jesus' pierced feet,
Joyful I'll cast my golden crown,
  And his dear Name repeat.

And palms shall wave, and harps shall ring,
  Beneath heaven's arches high;
The Lord that lives, the ransomed sing,
  That lives, no more to die.

O precious cross! O glorious crown!
  O resurrection day!
Ye angels, from the stars come down
  And bear my soul away.