Er maint yw angen enaid tlawd

Er maint yw angen enaid tlawd,
  A grym euogrwydd cas,
Mwy ydyw haeddiant Crist ein Brawd
  A rhinwedd golud gras.

Nid yw pechodau dua'r byd,
  Yn ormod i'w glanhau;
Mae haeddiant llawn ei Aberth drud,
  A'i effaith yn parhau.

Anfeidrol lawnder gras fy Nuw,
 'Does terfyn iddo byth;
Mae'n fwy nag eisieu dynol ryw,
  Yn wleddoedd pur dilyth.

O! doed preswylwyr nef y nef,
  A phawb is awyr las,
Yn unol mewn hyfrydol lef,
  I ganmol golud gras.

Although vast is the need of a poor soul,
  And the force of hated guilt,
Greater is the virtue of Christ our Brother
  And the merit of the wealth of grace.

The blackest sins of the world are not
  Too much to be cleansed;
The full virtue of his costly Sacrifice,
  And its effects, endure.

The immeasurable fulness of my God's grace,
  There is never any end to it;
It is greater than the needs of humankind,
  In pure unfailing lands.

Oh let the residents of the heaven of heaven come,
  And everyone beneath the blue sky,
In unity in a delightful cry,
  To extol the wealth of grace.