Fel y rhed llifogydd mawrion

Fel y rhed llifogydd mawrion
  Fel y chwyth yr awel gref,
Felly bydded f'ocheneidiau
  Yn dyrchafu tua'r nef;
Gwn, fy Nuw, na elli atal,
  Gwn na elli roi nacâd
O un fendith is y nefoedd
  Ag sydd imi er iachâd.

F'enaid wrth y nef sy'n curo,
  Yno mae yn pledio'n hy,
Ac ni osteg oni chaffo'i
  Dderbyn gan yr orsedd fry;
fel y pura'r stormydd mawrion
  o bob haint yr awyr las,
Felly holl gystuddiau 'mywyd
  A'm perffeithia ymhob gras.

Like the flow of great streams
  Like the blowing of a strong breeze,
Thus let my sighs be
  Rising towards the heaven;
I know, my God, that thou canst not halt,
  I know that thou canst not give denial
Of one blessing under the heavens
  Which results in healing for me.

My soul which at heaven is knocking,
  Is pounding importunately,
And is not silent unless it succeeds in
  Receiving from the throne above;
As the great storms purify
  from every disease of the blue sky,
Thus all afflictions of my life
  Perfect me in every grace.

Like a mighty deluge pouring
  Let my weary sighing be
Like the wind of heaven soaring
  Ever upward, Lord, to thee;
For I know thou naught withholdest
  Never, Lord, wilt thou refrain
From bestowing any blessing
  Which will serve to heal my pain.

Heaven's door my soul is pounding
  Mercy there it boldly pleads
Nor will cease, until thou grant it
  The acceptance which it needs;
As the storm-clouds by their downpour
  From the air all taint efface
So shall these my tribulations
  Make me perfect in thy grace.