Draw yn yr eangder mawr

Draw yn yr eangder mawr,
  Fry ym mhell o'r ddaear hon,
Dinas Sion, wiwlon wawr,
  Sy'n dyrchafu 'i thŷrau llòn.

Mae 'i chynteddau'n heirdd i gyd,
  O goethedig aur dilyth,
Wedi eu haddurno â drud
  Berlau gwych na lygrant byth.

Yno'n cyd-foliannu'r Oen
  Trig y gwynfydedig rai;
Lle ni theimlant gur na phoen,
  Ond dedwyddwch pur, didrai.

Doe, fel ninnau, 'n wael eu gwedd,
  'R oeddynt yma ar y llawr,
Plant y Groes yn cario'r cledd,
  'N ofni grym y gelyn mawr.

O ysbrydoedd perffaith, pur!
  'Hedd'soch chwi i'r lle na ddaw
Unrhyw ofid byth, na chur,
  Trist ammheuon, ofn, na braw.

Gwlad o gyrhaedd
    tranc a'r bedd, 
  Ing a phechod, a phob loes;
Cawsoch balmwydd yn lle'r cledd,
  Goron aur yn lle y groes.

Yonder in the great breadth,
  Up far from this earth,
The city of Zion, of an excellent dawn,
  Raises its cheerful towers.

Its courts are all beautiful,
  Of pure, refined gold,
Adorned with costly
  Brilliant pearls that shall never decay.

There, together praising the Lamb,
  Dwell the blessed ones;
Where they feel neither anguish nor pain,
  But pure, unebbing happiness.

Yesterday, like us, in a poor condition,
  There were hear on earth,
Children of the Cross carrying the sword,
  Fearing the force of the great enemy.

O perfect, pure spirits!
  Ye flew to the place where come
No grief ever, nor anguish,
  Sad doubt, fear, nor terror.

Land out of the reach of
    death and the grave,
  Pang and sin, and every affliction;
Ye got palms instead of swords,
  A golden crown instead of the cross.