Ei waith fel Archoffeiriad

Ei waith fel Archoffeiriad
  O fewn y nefoedd wen,
Y man y rho'wyd e' i eistedd
  Ar bob peth oll yn ben,
Yw eiriol dros ei bobl
  Nes cael cyflawni gyd,
Yr addewidion dyngwyd
  Cyn iddo seilio'r byd.

A thyma'r Angel cadarn
  Sy'n sefyll uwch y nen,
A'r gwregys am ei lwynau,
  A'r meitr am ei ben;
Yn dal y thuser sanctaidd
  Sydd o aroglau'n llawn,
A'r tarth yn codi' fyny
  O fore hyd brydnawn.

Gweddiau'r saint yn esgyn
  I fynu gyda'r mŵg,
Aroglau'r myrr yn tynu
  I ffwrdd y safwr drwg;
A'r dyledswyddau eraill
  Sy'n llawn eu gyd o fai,
Trwy scil yr Archoffeiriad
  Yn cael eu lwr lanhau.

Mi ro' fy nwylaw bellach
  Ar ben yr Aberth mawr,
Mi rifaf yno'n gryno
  Fy holl bechodau i lawr:
A'm dagrau hallt mi olchaf
  Draed fy Iachawdwr Crist,
Y traed mor fuan redodd
  I achub f'enaid trist.

gwelir:
  Fe safai'n Harchoffeiriad
  O Ysbryd sancteiddiolaf

His work as High Priest
  Within the bright heavens,
The place he was given to sit
  Over everything as head of them all,
Is interceding for his people
  Until getting all the fulfilment,
Of the promise sworn
  Before he founded the world.

And behold the strong Angel
  Who is standing above the sky,
With the belt about his loins,
  And the mitre about his head;
Holding the hold censer
  Which is full of aromas,
And the smoke rising up
  From morning until evening.

The prayers of the saints ascending
  Up with the smoke,
The aromas of the myrrh taking
  Away the evil savour;
And the other debts
  Which are all full of fault,
Through the skill of the High Priest
  Getting completely cleansed.

I will put my hands henceforth
  On the head of the great Sacrifice,
I will count there, trembling,
  All my sins down:
With my salt tears I will wash
  The feet of my Saviour Christ,
The feet that so soon ran
  To save my sad soul.