Iesu fu marw er fy mwyn

Iesu fu marw er fy mwyn,
A thrwy y marw hwnnw'n dwyn
  Tragwyddol fyw i mi,
Rho di dy ras nes dwyn fy mryd
A'm bod yn marw i gnawd a byd
  A'm cuddio gyda thi.

Iesu, o glwyf dy ystlys di
Y daeth i'n byd sychedig ni
  Afonydd cariad llawn;
Doed yma bob clwyfedig fron
I yfed fyth o'r ffynnon hon
  A phrofi'r ddwyfol ddawn.

Iesu, sydd eto mewn mawrhad
Yn eistedd ar ddeheulaw'r Tad
  Gan wisgo'n natur ni,
Eiriol y bo dy glwyfau i gyd
A dadlau drwy ddistawrwydd mud
  Dy ddirfawr haeddiant di.

Iesu, pan ddeui'n niwydd byd
Ag engyl mewn gogoniant drud
  I farnu pob rhyw gnawd,
Pan ni bydd ffoi o'th wyddfod di,
Tosturia, Arglwydd, wrthyf i
  Yn nydd brawychus braw.

Jesus who died for my sake,
And through that death brought
  Eternal life to me,
Give thou thy grace until my mind and my
Being are brought to die to flesh and world
  And hide myself with thee.

Jesus, from the wound of thy side
Cae to our thirsty world
  Rivers full of love;
Let every wounded breast come here
To drink forever of this fount
  And experience the divine gift.

Jesus, who art still in majesty
Sitting at the right hand of the Father
  Wearing our nature,
Interceding be all thy wounds
And pleading through the mute silence
  Thy enormous merit.

Jesus, when thou comest at the world's end
With angels in precious glory
  To judge every kind of flesh,
When there is no fleeing from thy presence,
Have mercy, Lord, upon me
  In the day of frightful terror.

Jesus, all hail, who for my sin
Didst die, and by that death didst win
  Eternal life for me;
Send me Thy grace, good Lord, that I
Unto the world and flesh may die,
  And hide my life with Thee.

Jesus, from out Thine open Side
Thou hast the thirsty world supplied
  With endless streams of love;
Come ye who would your sickness quell,
Draw freely from that sacred well,
  Its heavenly virtues prove.

Jesus, who at this very hour
At God's right hand in pomp and power
  Our nature still dost wear;
Oh! let Thy wounds still intercede,
And by their simple silence plead
  Thy countless merits there.

Jesus, who shalt in glory come
With angels to the final doom,
  Men's works and wills to weigh,
Since from that pomp I cannot flee,
Be pitiful, great Lord, to me
  In that tremendous day.