Mae'r Brenin yn y blaen

  Mae'r Brenin yn y blaen,
    'Rŷm ninnau oll yn hy,
  Ni saif na dŵr na thân
    O flaen ein harfog lu;
Ni awn, ni awn dan ganu i'r lan,
Cawn weld ein concwest yn y man.

  Ni welir un yn llesg
    Ym myddin Brenin nef
  Cans derbyn maent o hyd
    O'i nerthoedd hyfryd ef;
Ni gawn, ni gawn y gloyw win
O felys ryw, sancteiddiol rin.

  O fewn Caersalem lân
    Mi welaf fyrdd o saint,
  Ddiangodd o fy mlaen
    Tros fryniau mawr eu maint;
Dilynaf ôl y dyrfa hon,
Er dŵr, a thân,
      a llif, a thòn.

  Dechreued tafod mwy,
    Os tafod fedr gân,
  Na foed ond dwyfol glwy'
    Holl ddyddiau'i oes o'i flaen;
Fe gaed, fe gaed
      o'r diwedd fraint
Na phrofodd seraphim
      ei maint.

  Gerubiaid! dewch yn mla'n,
    Edrychwch yma'i lawr,
  Ar d'wynion uffern dân,
    Yn nghanol nef yn awr;
Pob un yn gwel'd ei hyfryd wlad,
A phorth santeiddiol tŷ ei Dad.

  Fe ddarfu ofn du,
    Euogrwydd cas a braw,
  Pan welsom Aberth fu
    Ar ben Calfaria draw;
Ar bren fe dalwyd iawn mor ddrud
Oedd fwy na holl
    ffieidd-dra'r byd.

  Un sill ar bren y groes
    O enau
          Crewr byd,
  Yn dyfnder angau loes,
    Sydd fwy na 'meiau 'i gyd;
O maddeu, 'Nhad, i'm heiddo i.
"Lama, Lama, Sabachthani."

  'Nawr mae cymylau'r nos,
    Barhaodd amser mawr,
  Yn agor ac yn ffoi,
    O flaen yr hyfryd wawr;
Fe gwyd yr haul, cawn wel'd yn glir,
Ein hetifeddiaeth cyn b'o hir.

  A heibio'r dywyll nos,
    Fe ffy cymmylau'r nen;
  Fe ddaw 'r addewid wir,
    A'i geiriau'n bur i ben:
Cair gwel'd, cair gwel'd,
      yr hyfryd dir,
Ar fyrr o dro yn oleu clir.

  Mae'r oriau maith yn wir,
    Yn dirwyn yn y blaen,
  Er bod nosweithiau'n hir.
    O'r diwedd darfod wnan':
Cymmylau'r nen,
      er maint eu grym,
O flaen y wawr
      ni safant ddim.

  Mae'r Brenin yn y blaen,
    'R ŷm ninau oll yn hy,
  Ni saif na dŵr na thân
    O flaen fath arfog lu;
Ni ' awn, ni ' awn dan ganu i'r lan,
Cawn wel'd ein concwest yn y man.

  Ni ddylai neb lesgâu
    Yn myddin Brenin nef,
  Cans derbyn i barhau
    O'i nerthoedd hyfryd Ef;
A thrwyddo awn dan ganu i'r lan,
Cawn wel'd ein concwest yn y man.

  Mae'r Brenin yn y blaen,
    'R ŷm ninau oll yn hy,
  Ni saif na dŵr na thân
    O flaen fath arfog lu;
Ni ' awn, ni ' awn dan ganu i'r lan,
Cawn wel'd ein concwest yn y man.

  Yn nghoncwest Iesu glân
    Mae mywyd a fy ngrym;
  Nid ofnaf uffern dân,
    Na cholyn angau llym:
Yn mlaen! yn mlaen! daw Deion wan
O'r tònau oll yn iach i'r làn.       [C]

gwelir:
  A heibio'r dywell nos
  Mae gân 'tifeddion gras
  Yng nghoncwest Iesu glân

  The King is in the fore,
    We are all bold,
  Neither water nor fire will stand
    Before our armed force;
Let us go, let us go up singing,
We will get to see our victory soon.

  Not a weary one is to be seen
    In the army of the King of heaven
  Since they receive continually
    From his delightful strengths;
Let us get, let us get the bright wine
Of a sweet kind, a holy mystery.

  Within holy Jerusalem
    I see a myriad of saints,
  Who escaped before me
    Across the hills of great magnitude;
I will follow after this throng,
Despite water, and fire,
      and flood, and wave.

  Let a tongue begin henceforth,
    If a tongue can sing,
  That there be only a divine wound
    All the days of its life in before it;
There is had, there is had
      at last a privilege
The extent of which seraphim
      never experienced.

  Cherubim, come on,
    Look down here,
  On the brands of hell fire,
    In the midst of heaven now;
Every one seeing his delightful land,
And the sacred gate of his Father's house.

  Black fear will pass away,
    Detestable guilt and terror,
  When we see a Sacrifice which was
    On the summit of yonder Calvary;
On the cross was paid a ransom so costly
Which was greater than all
    the loathsomeness of the world.

  One syllable on the wood of the cross
    From the mouth
          of the Creator of the world,
  In the depth of the throes of death,
    Is greater than all my faults;
O forgive, my Father, on my account.
"Lama, Lama, Sabachthani."

  Now the clouds of night,
    Which persisted for a long time,
  Are opening and fleeing,
    Before the delightful dawn;
The sun shall rise, we may see clearly,
Our inheritance before long.

  The dark night shall pass,
    The clouds of the sky shall flee;
  The true promise shall bring,
    Its words purely to fulfilment:
It shall be seen, it shall be seen,
      the delightful land
In a short while in clear light.

  The long hours are truly
    Winding up ahead,
  Despite long becoming night,
    In the end they shall die away:
The clouds of the sky,
      despite how great their force,
Before the dawn
      they shall not stand at all.

  The King is in the fore,
    We are all bold,
  Neither water nor fire will stand
    Before such an armed force;
Let us go, let us go up singing,
We will get to see our victory soon.

  No-one should grow weary
    In the army of the King of heaven
  Since receiving continually
    From His delightful strengths;
And through him let us go up singing,
We will get to see our victory soon.

  The King is in the fore,
    We are all bold,
  Neither water nor fire will stand
    Before such an armed force;
Let us go, let us go up singing,
We will get to see our victory soon.

  In the victory of holy Jesus
    Is my life and my force;
  I shall not fear hell fire,
    Nor the sharp sting of death:
Onward! onward! weak Zion shall come
Up from the waves all safe.

  Our King is leading on,
    And we are strong and bold;
  Why should we grieve and moan,
    While onward we are told?
We'll sing, we'll sing most joyfully,
For we shall gain the victory.

  From here you have no cry;
    The armies of our King
  Are blest with full supply,
    And thus they all can sing,
We'll sing, we'll sing most joyfully,
For we shall gain the victory.

  On Sion's holy hill
    I see the hosts above,
  Escaped from death and hell,
    To sing the song of love.
And thus they sing most joyfully,
Oh, now we've gained
      the victory.

  Our King is leading on,
    And we are strong and bold;
  Why should we grieve and moan,
    While onward we are told?
We'll sing, we'll sing most joyfully,
For we shall gain the victory.

  From here you have no cry;
    The armies of our King
  Are blest with full supply,
    And thus they all can sing,
We'll sing, we'll sing most joyfully,
For we shall gain the victory.

  Our King is leading on,
    And we are strong and bold;
  Why should we grieve and moan,
    While onward we are told?
We'll sing, we'll sing most joyfully,
For we shall gain the victory.

  On Sion's holy hill
    I see the hosts above,
  Escaped from death and hell,
    To sing the song of love.
And thus they sing most joyfully,
Oh, now we've gained the victory.