Mae gwlad o wynfyd pur heb haint

Mae gwlad o wynfyd
    pur heb haint,
Byth yno y teyrnasa'r saint;
  Lle nad oes tywell nôs,
      ond dydd,
  A phleser heb
      ddim blinder sydd.

Tu draw i angeu du a'r bedd,
Mae meusydd gwyrddion
    hardd eu gwedd;
  Mae yno yn dragwyddol haf,
  Ni wywa byth ei blodau braf.

O! am gael ffydd i ymlid 'ffwrdd
Y cul amheuon sy'n ein cwrdd;
  A gallu gwel'd, â golwg glir,
  Drigfanau dedwydd Canaan dir.

               - - - - -

Mae gwlad o wynfyd pur
    heb haint,
Byth yno y teyrnasa'r saint;
  Lle nad oes tywyll nos, ond dydd,
  A phleser
      heb ddim blinder sydd.

Mae yno yn dragwyddol haf,
Ni wywa byth ei blodau braf;
  Ond angeu megys mor y sy
  Rhyngom a'r wlad nefolaidd fry.

Yr ochr draw i angeu a'r bedd,
Mae meusydd gwyrddion
    hardd eu gwedd;
  I Israel felly Canaan fu,
  I'w gwel'd tu draw'r Iorddonen ddu.

Ond dynion sy'n ddigalon, gwn,
I groesi'r Cul-fôr cyfyng hwn;
  Ar geulan angeu maent mewn braw,
  Yn ofni morio drwyddo draw.

O am gael ffydd i ymlid ffwrdd
Y cul amheuon sy'n ein cwrdd;
  Fel gallom wel'd, â golwg clir,
  Drigfanau dedwydd Canaan dir.

Fel Moses gynt pe dringem ni,
A gwel'd y wlad a'i hansawdd hi;
  Nid oer lifeiriant angeu caeth
  A darfai'n traed oddiwrth y traeth.

gwelir: Mae gwlad i'w chael o wynfyd pur

There is a land of pure
    blessedness without disease,
Forever there the saints reign;
  Where there is no darkness of night,
      but day,
  And pleasure without
      there being any distress.

Beyond black death and the grave,
There are green fields
    of beautiful appearance;
  There it is eternal summer,
  Never will its nice flowers wilt.

O to get faith to chase away
The narrow doubts which meet us;
  And to be able to see, with a clear view,
  The happy dwellings of Canaan land.

                  - - - - -

There is a country of pure
    bliss, without disease,
Forever there the saints reign;
  Where there is no dark night, but day,
  And there is pleasure
      without any grief.

There it is eternal summer,
Never will its nice flowers wilt;
  But death like a sea is
  Between us and the heavenly land above.

On yonder side of death and the grave,
There are green fields
    of beautiful appearance;
  To Israel thus was Canaan,
  To be seen across the black Jordan.

But men who are timid, I know,
To cross this narrow strait;
  On the bank of death they are in terror,
  Fearing to sail through it yonder.

O to get faith to chase away
The narrow doubts which meet us;
  Thus may we see, with a clear view,
  The happy dwellings of Canaan land.

Like Moses of old if we were to climb,
And see the land and its quality;
  Not a cold torrent of captive death
  Would remove our feet from the shore.

There is a land
    of pure delight,
  Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day
    excludes the night,
  And pleasures
      banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,
  And never
      withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
  This heav'nly land from ours.

O could we make our doubts remove,
  Those gloomy thoughts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love
  With unbeclouded eyes!

               - - - - -

There is a land
    of pure delight,
  Where happy saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
  And lasting pleasures
      banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,
  And never, never with'ring flowers;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
  This happy, heav'nly land from ours.

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
  Stand dressed
      in ever-living green;
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
  While the deep Jordan roll'd between.

But timorous mortals start and shrink
  To cross the narrow sea,
And linger shivering on the brink,
  And fear to launch away.

Oh, could we make our doubts remove,
Those very gloomy doubts that rise,
  And see the Canaan that we love,
  With whole and unbeclouded eyes.

Could we but climb where Moses stood,
  And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
  Should fright us from the shore!