Agorwyd ar y bryn

  Agorwyd ar y bryn,
  Ryw ffynnon rad cyn hyn,
A'n gylch yn wyn
    o'n pen i'n traed;
  Mae'n golchi'r dua'i liw,
  Mor wyn a'r eira gwiw,
Rhinweddol yw y Dwyfol waed!

  O iachawdwriaeth fawr!
  A lifodd ini i lawr,
Yn ffrydiau pur grisialaidd byw:
  Maddeuant ini gaed,
  A heddwch yn y gwaed,
O gariad rhad
    ein Tad a'n Duw.

  Am iachawdwriaeth lawn,
  Foreuddydd a phrydnawn,
Moliannu gawn yr Iesu gwiw;
  Dyoddefodd angeu loes,
  Yn ddiddig ar y groes,
A'i ddoniau roes i ddynolryw.

  Yn Nghrist a'i werthfawr waed,
  Mae llawn faddeuant rhad,
A gwir iachād o bob rhyw glwy';
  Am aberth pur y groes,
  Ac ing ei Ddwyfol loes,
A'r Iawn a roes,
    cān f'enaid mwy.

                - - - - -

  Agorwyd ar y bryn
  Ryw ffynon rād cyn hyn,
A'm gylch yn wyn
    o'm pen i'm traed;
  Mae'n golchi'r dua'i liw
  Mor wyn a'r eira gwiw;
Rhinweddol yw y dwyfol waed.

  Y ffynnon loyw hon,
  Yn ol y wayw-ffon,
Aeth dan ei firon,
    daeth i ni fraint;
Hi ylch y brwnt yn lān,
Hosanna f'enaid cān,
Can's dyma sylfaen
    yr holl saint.

  Y ffynon loyw hyn,
  A darddodd ar y bryn,
Yn ffrydiau o anfeidrol hedd;
  Rhyw fōr o gariad yw
  Dy heddwch Di, fy Nuw,
A nef y nef yw
    gweld Dy wedd.

  Mi wnaf fy nghartref mwy
  Dan gysgod marwol glwy';
'Does noddfa arall dan y nef,
  Na man i gael glanhād,
  Ond yn y ffynon rād
O ddŵr a gwaed o'i ystlys Ef.

gwelir: O iachawdwriaeth fawr

  Opened on the hill was
  Some free fountain before this,
Which washes me white
    from my head to my feet;
  It is washing the blackest of colour
  As white as the worthy snow;
Wonderful is the divine blood!

  O great salvation!
  Which flowed down to us,
As pure, crystal, living streams:
  Forgiveness for us was got,
  And peace in the blood,
From the free love of
    our Father and our God.

  For full salvation,
  Morning and afternoon,
Praise, let us do, the worthy Jesus;
  He suffered deathly throes,
  Contented on the cross,
And his gifts he gave to humankind.

  In Christ and his precious blood,
  There is full, free forgiveness,
And true healing of every kind of wound;
  For the pure sacrifice of the cross,
  And the anguish of his Divine throes,
And the Ransom he gave,
    my soul shall sing for evermore.

                   - - - - -

  Opened on the hill was
  Some free fountain before this,
Which washes me white
    from my head to my feet;
  It is washing the blackest of colour
  As white as the worthy snow;
Wonderful is the divine blood.

  This clear fountain,
  After the spear,
Which went under his breast,
    became a privilege for us,
  It washes the filthy pure,
  Hosanna my soul sings,
Since here is the foundation
    of all the saints.

  This clear fountain
  Issued on the hill,
As streams of immeasurable peace;
  Some sea of love is
  Thy peace, my God,
And the heaven of heaven is
    seeing Thy face.

  I will make my home evermore
  Under the shadow of a mortal wound;
There is no other refuge under heaven,
  Nor a place to get cleansed,
  But in the free fountain
Of water and blood from His side.