O tyred, Arglwydd mawr,
Dihidla o'r nef i lawr
  Gawodydd pur;
Fel byddo'r egin grawn,
Foreddydd a phrynhawn,
Yn tarddu'n beraidd iawn
  O'r anial dir.

O'r ffynnon werthfawr rad,
A'r afon goch o waed,
  Ar Galfari,
Dylifa 'lawr i'r byd,
A chuddia'n bai i gyd
Yn nyfnder haeddiant drud
  Y Ceidwad cu.

Mae peraroglau gras
Yn taenu o gylch i maes
  Awelon hedd;
Estroniaid sydd yn dod
O'r pellter eitha' 'rioed,
I gwympo wrth dy droed
  A gweld dy wedd.

Mae tegwch d'ŵyneb-pryd
Yn maeddu oll i gyd
  Sy ar ddaear las;
Mae pob rhyw nefol ddawn
Oll yno'n gryno lawn,
Yn tarddu'n hyfryd iawn
  O'th glwyfau i maes.

O tyred, Awdwr hedd,
A chyfod ni o'r bedd,
  Y pydew prudd:
Ein henaid, gruddfan mae,
Am gael ei wir iachau -
O'th ras, tyr'd yma'n glau,
  A rho ni'n rhydd.

O Brynwr mawr y byd,
Tyr'd bellach - mae'n llaw bryd -
  Mae yn brydnawn:
Gâd ini wel'd dy ras
Ar frys yn tori maes,
Dros ŵyneb daear lâs,
  Yn genllif llawn.

Arosaf drwy fy oes,
Byth bellach dan dy groes,
  I'th wir fwynhau;
Mi wn mai'r taliad hyn
Wnaed ar Galfaria fryn,
A'm càna'i oll yn wyn
  Oddiwrth fy mai.

Yn nyfnder dŵr a thân
Calfaria fydd fy nghân,
  Calfaria mwy;
Y bryn ordeiniodd Duw
Yn nhragwyddoldeb yw,
I godi'r marw'n fyw,
  Trwy farwol glwy'.

Af bellach tua'r wlad
Bwrcaswyd im â gwa'd:
  'Rwyf yn nesáu:
Caf yno oll i'm rhan
Sydd eisiau ar f'enaid gwan,
A hynny yn y man,
  I'w wir fwynhau.

O tyred, Arglwydd mawr,
Dyhidla o'r nef i lawr,
  Gawodydd pur;
Fel byddo i'r egin grawn,
Foreu-ddydd a phrydnawn,
I darddu'n beraidd iawn,
  O'r anial dir.

Fy meiau fach a mawr,
Sy raid eu cael i lawr,
  Cyn byddo hir:
Fe fynn cyfreithiau'r ne',
I dynnu'r llygad de',
A thorri'r fraich o'i lle,
  Ei air sydd wir.

Ac er nad wyf ond gwan,
Ond deli fi i'r lann,
  Ni'm maeddir ddim,
Mae nerth dy fraich yn fwy,
Na'u holl fyddinoedd hwy,
Sy'n rhoddi i mi glwy',
  Er maint eu grym.

Ni gerddwn tu a'r wlad,
Bwrcasodd dwyfol waed,
  Y mae gerllaw,
Cawn oleu'r golofn dan,
I'n dwyn trwy'r mor yn lan
Ac ni gawn seinio can,
  Yr ochr draw.

Rho gymmorth i mi fyw,
Tan aden i bur fy Nur,
  Mewn lloches wir,
Ac yna mi af yn hy,
Trwy luoedd creulon cry,
Lle mae fy Iesu cu,
  Cyn byddo hir.

gwelir:
  Arosaf ddydd a nos
  Gwnes addunedau fil
  Iachawdwr dynolryw
  O tyred Awdwr hedd (A chyfod … )
  Wel bellach awn yn mlaen
  Yn nyfnder dŵr a thân

O come, great Lord,
Drop down from heaven
  Pure showers;
That there may be shoots of grain,
In the morning morning and afternoon,
Springing very sweetly
  From the desert land!

From the valuable, gracious fount,
And the red river of blood,
  On Calvary,
Flow down to the world,
And hide all our fault
In the the depths of the costly merit
  Of the dear Saviour.

The sweet smells of grace are
Pouring out around
  Breezes of peace;
Strangers are coming
From the utmost distance ever,
To fall at thy feet
  And see thy face.

The fairness of thy countenance
Strikes completely all
  That is on the blue/green earth;
Every kind of heavenly gift is
All there concisely full,
Issuing very pleasantly
Out from thy wounds.

O come, Author of peace,
And raise us from the grave,
  The sad pit:
Our soul, groaning they are,
Truly to get healed -
By the grace, come here swiftly,
  And set us free.

O great Redeemer of the world,
Come from now on - the time is at hand -
  It is afternoon:
Let us see thy grace
In haste breaking out,
Across the face of the blue/green earth,
  As a full torrent!

I will stay throughout my life,
For evermore under thy cross,
  Truly to enjoy thee;
I know that this payment
Made on Calvary hill,
Will bleach me all white
  From my fault.

In the depth of water and fire
Calvary shall be my song,
  Calvary evermore;
The hill God ordained
In eternity it is,
To raise the dead alive,
  Through a mortal wound.

I shall go henceforth towards the land
Purchased for me with blood:
  I am drawing near:
There I will get all to my part
Which my weak soul needs,
And that soon,
  Truly to enjoy him.

O come, great Lord,
Pour down from heaven,
  Pure showers;
Thus shall the shoots of grain,
Morning and afternoon,
To spring very sweetly,
  From the desert land.

My sins small and great,
Are needing to be brought down,
  Before long:
The laws of heaven demand,
To pull out the right eye,
And cut the arm from its place
  His word is true.

Although I am only weak,
If thou but hold me up,
  Nothing will beat me,
The strength of thy arm is greater,
Than all their armies,
Which are giving me a wound,
  Despite their force.

We are walking towards the country,
Which divine blood purchased,
  It is at hand,
We will get the light of the pillar of fire,
To lead us through the see purely
And we will get to sound a song
  On yonder side.

Grant help for me to live,
Under the pure wings of my God,
  In a true refuge,
And there I shall go boldly,
Through strong, cruel hosts,
Where my dear Jesus is,
  Before long.