Ein noddfa gadarn fythol yw,
Y gair a ddaeth o enau'n Duw,
Fe dd'wedodd y cawn ninnau fyw,
  Anfeidrol yw ei ras:
Ni welwn ol ei siriol saint,
Dan y cystuddiau mwya'u maint,
Yn cadw'u cysur yn cadw'u braint,
  Yng ngwyneb angeu glas.

O addfwyn Iesu gad in' fod,
O fewn dy gorlan dan dy nod,
A threulio'n bywyd er dy glod,
  Yn gyflawn o dy hedd;
Yng nghanol terfysg a phob gwae,
Croes a chystuddiau'n amlhau,
Gan fyn'd ym mlaen dan lawenhau,
  Nes gorwedd yn y bedd.

             - - - - -

Fy noddfa gadarn fythol yw,
Y gair a ddaeth o enau'm Duw,
Fe ddywedodd y cawn ninau fyw,
  Anfeidrol yw ei ras:
Mi welaf ôl ei siriol saint,
Tan y cystuddiau mwya' eu maint,
Yn cadw eu cysur yn cadw eu braint,
  Yn wyneb angeu glâs.

O addfwyn Iesu gad i'm fod,
O fewn dy gorlan dan dy nod,
A threulio mywyd er dy glod,
  Yn gyflawn o dy hedd;
Y'nghanol terfysg a phob gwae,
Croes a chystuddiau yn amlhau,
Gan fyn'd y'mlaen tan lawenhau,
  Nes gorwedd yn y bedd.

Duw os wyt am ddybenu'r byd,
Cyflawna'n gynta' d'air i gyd,
Dy etholedig galw 'nghyd,
  O gwmpas daear fawr:
Aed sain dy efengyl
    trwy bob gwlad,
A golch fyrddiynau yn dy waed,
A dyro iddynt wir iachad,
  Ac yna tyr'd i lawr.

gwelir:
    Duw os wyt am ddybenu'r byd
    Er c(')uwch y bryniau uchel fry
    Er uched yw y bryniau fry
    Os rhaid im' gwrddyd ar fy nhaith

Our strong, eternal refuge is,
The word which came from the mouth of our God,
He said that we may live,
  Immeasurable is his grace:
We see the trace of his cheerful saints,
Under afflictions of the greatest extent,
Keeping their comfort, keeping their privilege,
  In the face of utter death.

Gentle Jesus, let us be,
Within thy fold under thy mark,
And spend our life for thy praise,
  Full of thy peace;
In the midst of tumult and every woe,
Cross and multiplying afflictions,
While going forward under rejoicing,
  Until resting in the grave.

                  - - - - -

My strong, eternal refuge is,
The word which came from the mouth of my God,
He said that we may live,
  Immeasurable is his grace:
I see the mark of his cheerful saints,
Under afflictions of the greatest extent,
Keeping their comfort, keeping their privilege,
  In the face of utter death.

Gentle Jesus, let me be,
Within thy fold under thy mark,
And spend my life for thy praise,
  Full of thy peace;
In the midst of tumult and every woe,
Cross and a multiplying afflictions,
While going forward under rejoicing,
  Until resting in the grave.

God, if thou wilt end the world,
Fulfil first all thy word,
Thy chosen call together,
  From around the great earth:
Let the sound of thy gospel go
    through every land,
And wash myriads in thy blood,
And give them true salvation,
  And then come down!

If Thou would'st end the world O Lord