Chychwi sydd garcharorion

Chychwi sydd garcharorion,
  De'wch allan 'nawr yn llu,
Mae'r dyled wedi'i dalu
  Gan eich Gwaredwr cu:
Er iddo fod yn isel
  A dirmygedig iawn,
Caw'd ganddo lwyr foddlonrwydd
  Yn gynar y prydnawn.

Bu'n ffiaidd gan Iuddewon,
  Er hyny y'mlaen yr aeth,
A'u olwg yn wastadol,
  A'i deimlad dros y caeth;
Ar iddynt gael meddiannu
  Anghyfaneddol dir,
A'r etifeddiaeth gollwyd
  O'i gafael dymhor hir.

Ond bellach ni bydd newyn,
  Na syched tost a'i boen,
I neb 'r gwaredigion,
  Canlynwyr addfwyn Oen;
Cânt yfed o'r ffynhonau,
  A'r ffrydiau sy'n iachâu,
Ac ar eu huchel fanau
  Bydd ymborth i barhau.

Ye who are prisoners,
  Come out now as a host,
The debt has been paid
  By your dear Deliverer:
Although he was lowly
  And greatly scorned,
By him was got complete satisfaction
  Early in the afternoon.

He was detestable to the Jews,
  Nevertheless onwards he went,
With his sight constant,
  And his feeling for the captive;
For them to get possession
  Of an uninhabited land,
And the inheritance that was lost
  From his grasp for a long season.

But henceforth there will be no hunger,
  Nor sore thirst with its pain,
For anyone of the delivered,
  The followers of the gentle Lamb;
The get to drink from the wells,
  And the streams which are healing,
And on their high peaks
  Shall be sustenance to endure.