O anfeidrol ryfedd fraint

  O anfeidrol ryfedd fraint,
  Yw cael bod yn un o'r saint;
Ar ol blinder
    a gorthymder anial le,
  Ar adenydd cariad pur,
  Cawn ehedeg uwch pob cur,
Cawn orfoledd heb ddim diwedd
    yn y ne'.

    Wedi canu'n gynau'n rhad,
    Trwy rinweddau'r dwyfol waed,
      Byddwn yno,
      Yn disgleirio,
    Mewn gorfoledd yn y nef.

  Gwelwn yno'n Ceidwad mawr
  A garasom ar y llawr,
A chawn weled gwedd
    ei wyneb heb un llen;
  Cawn orphwyso byth heb boen
  Yn nghymdeithas Duw a'r Oen,
A chartrefu gyda'r teulu
    uwch y nen.

  Awn tuag yno'n dyrfa fawr,
  Cyn bo hir fe dyr y wawr,
Tora arnom ryfeddodau'r nef yn llawn;
  Nid oes yno ofn na chur,
  Ond caniadau cariad pur;
Aur-delynau a choronau yno gawn.

  Henffych foreu dedwydd, gwyn!
  O'r gorfoledd fydd pryd hyn!
Enaid pur, heb gadwyn, dychryn,
    poen na briw:
  Ni bydd yno glwyf na chledd,
  Ond tragwddol hyfryd hedd, -
Fendigedig, wynfydedig
    wlad fy Nuw!

  Oh, immeasurable, wonderful privilege,
  It is to get to be one of the saints;
After the exhaustion
    and oppression of a desert place,
  On wings of pure love,
  We may fly above every ache,
We may be rejoice without any end
    in heaven.

    Having sung in robes freely,
    Through the merits of the divine blood,
      We shall be there,
      Shining,
    In joy in heaven.

  We will see there our great Saviour
  Who had loved us on the earth,
And we will get to see the countenance
    of his face without any curtain;
  We will get to rest forever without pain
  In the fellowship of God and the Lamb,
And make a home with the family
    above the sky.

  We will go towards there as a great throng,
  Before long the dawn will break,
Break upon us the wonders of heaven fully;
  There is there neither fear nor ache,
  But songs of pure love;
Golden harps and crown there we will get.

  Hail, happy, blessed morning!
  Oh, the rejoicing there will be then!
A pure soul, without a chain, terror,
    pain or bruise;
  There will be there neither wound nor sword,
  But eternal, delightful peace, -
Blessed, blissful
    land of my God!

  I am now a child of God,
  For I'm washed in Jesus' blood;
I am watching
    and I'm longing while I wait;
  Soon on wings of love I'll fly,
  To my home beyond the sky,
To my welcome,
    as I'm sweeping thro' the gate.

      In the blood of yonder Lamb,
      Washed from every stain I am;
        Robed in whiteness,
        Clad in brightness,
      I am sweeping thro' the gate.

  Oh! the blessèd Lord of light,
  He upholds me by His might;
And His arms enfold,
    and comfort while I wait;
  I am leaning on His breast,
  Oh! the sweetness of His rest,
Hallelujah,
    I am sweeping thro' the gate.

  I am sweeping thro' the gate
  Where the blessèd for me wait,
Where the weary workers rest forevermore;
  Where the strife of earth is done,
  And the crown of life is won,
Oh, the glory of that city just before!

  Burst are all my prison bars;
  And I soar beyond the stars,
To my Father's house,
    the bright and blest estate.
  Lo! the morn eternal breaks,
  And the song immortal wakes,
Robed in whiteness
    I am sweeping thro' the gate.