Noethion y daethom ni o'r dda'r

Noethion y daethom ni o'r dda'r,
  I Fywyd ar y cynta',
Dychwelyd etto wnawn i hon
  Yn noethion holl blant Adda.

Y pethau hoff y'm ni'n fwynhau,
  Ac yn fawrhau fel eiddo,
Sydd fenthyg byrr i'w talu'n ol,
  Ryw bryd amserol etto.

Duw mawr yw'r hwn fydd yn amlhau,
  Neu yn lleihau'n cysuron,
Mae'n rhoi, (a mawl i'w enw b'o!)
  Ni chymmer fo ond ei roddion.

Am hyn distawn ein gwyniau dig
  A byddwn ddiddig bellach,
A boddlon i ewyllys Duw,
  Beth bynna' yw heb rwgnach.

O's cawn fwynhau' gysuron gwiw,
  Tra b'om ni byw, ni a'i molwn,
Ac ymaith o's efe a'n tyn,
  Mae'n gyfiawn, hyn addefwn.

Naked came we from the Earth,
  To Life at the first,
Return again we shall do to this
  Naked, all the children of Adam.

The favourite things we are enjoying,
  And value as possessions,
Are a short loan to pay back,
  On some temporal occasion yet.

A great God is this who will multiply,
  Or lessen our comforts,
He gives, (and praise be to his name!)
  He will not take anything but his gifts.

Therefore let us silence our angry complaints
   And let us be content henceforth,
And satisfied with God's will,
  Whatever it is without grumbling.

If we get to enjoy suitable comforts,
  While ever we live, we shall praise him,
And away if he should draw us,
  He is righteous, this we profess.

Naked as from the earth we came,
  And crept to life at first,
We to the earth return again,
  And mingle with our dust.

The dear delights we here enjoy,
  And fondly call our own,
Are but short favors borrowed now,
  To be repaid anon.

'Tis God that lifts our comforts high,
  Or sinks them in the grave;
He gives, and, blessed be his name!
  He takes but what he gave.

Peace, all our angry passions, then;
  Let each rebellious sigh
Be silent at his sovereign will,
  And every murmur die.

If smiling mercy crown our lives,
  Its praises shall be spread;
And we'll adore the justice too
  That strikes our comforts dead.