Iesu Ti wyt/yw ffynnon bywyd

Iesu, Ti wyt ffynnon bywyd,
  Bywyd dedwydd i barhau,
Pob cysuron îs y nefoedd,
  Ynot Ti dy Hun y mae;
Nis gall croes, na gwae, na chystudd,
  Wneuthur niwed iddynt hwy,
Gafodd nerth i wneyd eu noddfa,
  Yn dy ddwyfol farwol glwy'.

Dyna'r man na ddaw euogrwydd,
  Dyfais Satan fyth, na chwant;
Awel nef sydd yno'n cadw
  Pob rhyw ddrygau oll i bant:
Nid oes rhuad môr,
    na'i donau,
  Na thymhestloedd o un rhyw,
Ond rhyw bur dangnefedd hyfryd
  Yn archollion f'anwyl Dduw.

Dring, fy enaid, i'th orffwysfa,
  Uwch y gwynt tymhestlog oer,
'Maes o swn
    rhuadau'r llewod,
  'Maes o gyrraedd tonnau'r môr;
Mi gaf yno, dan bob blinder,
  Hyfryd dreulio 'nyddiau i maes,
Heb gael briw,
    na chlais, nac archoll,
  Gan neb rhyw elynion cas.

              - - - - -

Iesu, ti wyt Fynnon bywyd,
  Bywyd dedwydd i barhau;
Pob gwir gysur îs y nefoedd,
  Ynot ti dy hun y mae;
Ni all croes, na gwarth, na chystudd
  Wneuthur niwed iddynt hwy
Ag sudd wedi gwneud eu noddfa
  Yn dy ddwyfol farwol glwy'.

gwelir:
  Anwledig 'rwy'n dy garu
    (Rhyfedd ydyw nerth dy ras)
 Priod y drag'wyddol hanfod

Jesus, Thou art the fount of life,
  A happy life to endure,
Every comfort below the heavens,
  Is in Thee Thyself;
No cross, nor woe, nor affliction, can
  Do any injury to them,
Who got the strength to make their refuge,
  In thy divine mortal wound.

There's the place guilt shall not come,
  Never a device of Satan, nor lust;
The breeze of heaven is there keeping
  All kinds of evil away:
There is no roaring of a sea,
    nor its waves,
  Nor tempests of any kind,
But some pure, delightful tranquility
  In the wounds of my beloved God.

Climb, my soul, to thy rest,
  Above the cold, tempestuous wind,
Out of the sound of
    the roaring of the lions,
  Out of the reach of the waves of the sea;
I may get there, under every distress,
  Delightfully to spend my days out,
Without getting wound,
    or bruise, or injury,
  By any hated enemy whatsoever.

                - - - - -

Jesus, thou art the Fount of life,
  A happy life to endure;
Every true comfort under heaven,
  Is in thee thyself;
No cross, nor scorn, nor affliction, can
  Do any injury to those
Who have made their refuge
  In thy divine mortal wound.