Alarwyr llesg, medd Duw, ple'ch cair,
Sy'n crynu'n isel wrth fy ngair?
  Mewn t'w'llwch du sy'n rhodio'n brudd,
  Rhowch ar fy ngras holl bwys eich ffydd.

Nid all eich dyledswyddau llawn
Roi am y pechod lleiaf Iawn;
  Y wisg all natur barotoi,
  Ni chuddia'ch gwarth,
      er ynddi 'mdroi.

Rhy fỳr yw'r gwely wnaethoch drin
I esmwythâu cydwybod flin:
  Trowch at fy Mab i geisio hedd,
  Cewch ganddo Ef dragwyddol wledd.

                - - - - -

Galarwyr, p'le, medd f'Arglwydd, cair,
Sy'n gwrando a chrynu wrth fy ngair?
  Mewn t'w'llwch du sy'n rhodio'r dydd?
  Rhowch yn fy enw eich cred a'ch ffydd.

Ni all eich dyledswyddau llawn
Roi am y pechod lleiaf Iawn;
  Y wisg all nattur barottoi,
  Ni chuddia'ch gwarth,
      er ynddi 'mdroi.

Rhy fyrr yw'r gwely all nattur drin
I esmwythau cydwybod flin;
  At fy nghyfiawnder trowch gael byw,
  Cysur a hedd yw
      rhodd Mab Duw.

Chwy-chwi sy'n cynnu tân heb les
I dwymo'ch enaid oer di-wres:
  Rhodiwch wrth olau'ch tân eich hun,
  A'ch dewis wrychion
      tywyll y'n'.

Feeble mourners, says God, where are you,
Who tremble lowly at my word?
  Who walk sadly in black darkness,
  Lean all your faith's weight on my grace.

All your full duties cannot
Give satisfaction for the least sin;
  The clothing that nature can provide,
  Does not cover your shame,
      despite wrapping yourself in it.

Too short is the bed you have prepared
To ease a grieved conscience:
  Turn to my Son to seek peace,
  You shall get at eternal feast from him.

                  - - - - -

Mourners, where, says my Lord, are you,
Who listen and tremble at my word?
  Who walk by day in black darkness?
  Put in my name your belief and your faith.

All your full duties cannot
Give satisfaction for the least sin;
  The clothing that nature can provide,
  Does not cover your shame,
      despite wrapping yourself in it.

Too short is the bed that nature can prepare
To ease a grieved conscience;
  To my righteousness turn to get to live,
  Comfort and peace are the
      gift of the Son of God.

All ye who kindle fire without benefit
To warm your cold warmth-less soul:
  You walk by the light of your own fire,
  And the sparks of darkness
      are your choice.