Nis gall dysgedigion doethaf

Nis gall dysgedigion doethaf,
  Er cyrhaeddyd fry i'r ne',
Chwilio troion
      sêr y wybr,
  Gwel'd eu maint, a gwel'd eu lle,
    Fyth i bwyso
  Gwerthfawrogrwydd gwaed Dy groes.

Nis gall dysg, ac nis gall doniau,
  Wel'd y pechod drwg ei ryw,
Bwyso'i haeddiant maith, a'i fesur,
  O flaen gorsedd bur fy Nuw;
    Ar Galfaria
  Gwelaf e'n ei liw a'i lun.

Pechod yma, cariad acw,
  Fu yno yn y glorian fawr;
Ac er trymed oedd y pechod,
  Cariad bwysodd hyd y llawr:
    'Gair "Gorphenwyd,"
  Wnaeth i'r glorian bwysig droi.

Haeddiant Duwdod, o'i gymharu
  'N erbyn uffern fawr o'r bron!
Dafn gwaed
      sy'n ganmil rhagor
  Nag aflendid dudew hon;
    Gw'radwyddiadau
  Duw, rydd Iawn
        am feiau'r byd.

Fe ddystawa'r holl ellyllon,
  Fe ddystawa'r ddeddf o'r bron,
Fe ddistewa pur gyfiawnder
  Sy'n ymddial cweryl hon,
    Gyntaf enwir
  Sillaf prin am
      waed y groes.

gwelir
  Ffordd nid oes o waredigaeth
  Pechod yma cariad acw

The wisest students cannot,
  Despite reaching up to heaven,
Searching the turnings
      of the stars of the sky,
  Seeing their size, and seeing their place,
    Ever weigh
  The value of the blood of Thy cross.

Learning cannot, and talents cannot,
  See the sin of an evil kind,
Weigh its vast deserts, and its measure,
  Before the pure throne of my God;
    On Calvary
  I see it in its colour and its form.

Sin here, love yonder,
  Were there in the great scales;
And despite how heavy was the sin,
  Love weighed down to the ground:
    The Word "It is finished,"
  Made the heavy scales turn.

The merit of Godhead, in comparison
  To great hell completely!
A drop of blood
      is a hundred thousand times superior
  To this pitch-black uncleanness;
    The shames
  Of God, give Satisfaction
      for the sins of the world.

It stills all the demons,
  It stills the law completely,
It stills the pure righteousness
  Which is prosecuting this case,
    Does the fist syllable
  Scarcely uttered about
      the blood of the cross.