O happus Eglwys sanctaidd le

O happus Eglwys, sanctaidd le,
Maingc gras dy Brynwr,
    Brenin ne';
  Dy lân gynteddau ei drigfan yw,
  Ti wyt ddaearol lys ein Duw.

Cedyrn yw'th furiau,
    'run ni syrth,
Rhyfelwyr nefol geidw'th byrth;
  Ni syfla'th sail,
      sefydlog yw,
  Ar gyngor doeth a chariad Duw.

D'elynion, ofer yw eu bryd,
Yn erbyn d'orsedd tery eu llid,
  Fel tonnau'r môr cynddeiriog caeth,
  Sy'n curo a marw ar y traeth.

Ein henaid mwy yn Seion trig,
Heb ofni'r fall na Rhufain ddig;
  Mae'i freichiau cylch ei dedwydd dir,
  Fel amddiffynfa o bres yn wir. 

Duw yw ein Haul a'n Tarian gref,
Mewn munud tywallt y mae ef
  O newydd arnom belydr gras:
  A'i fawl ddatseiniwn ninnau 'ma's.

O happy Church, a holy place,
The throne of grace of thy Redeemer,
    the King of heaven;
  Thy holy halls his dwelling are,
  Thou art the earthly court of our God.

Firm are thy walls,
    the same shall not fall,
Heavenly warriors keep thy gates
  Thy foundation shall not shift,
      established it is,
  On the wise counsel and love of God.

Thy enemies, vain is their intent,
Against thy throne their anger strikes,
  Like the waves of the captive, raging sea,
  That beat and die upon the beach.

Our soul evermore in Zion shall dwell,
Fearing neither devil nor the angry Roman;
  Its arm are around its happy territory,
  Like a bulwark of brass truly.

God is our Sun and our strong Shield,
In a minute he shall pour out
  Anew upon us a ray of grace:
  And his praise we in turn shall echo out.

Happy the church, thou sacred place,
The seat of thy
    Creator's grace;
  Thine holy courts are his abode,
  Thou earthly palace of our God.

Thy walls are strength,
    and at thy gates
A guard of heavenly warriors waits;
  Nor shall thy deep
      foundations move,
  Fix'd on his counsels and his love.

Thy foes in vain designs engage,
Against his throne in vain they rage,
  Like rising waves, with angry roar,
  That dash and die upon the shore.

Then let our souls in Zion dwell,
Nor fear the wrath of Rome and hell:
  His arms embrace this happy ground,
  Like brazen bulwarks built around.

God is our shield, and God our sun;
Swift as the fleeting moments run,
  On us he sheds new beams of grace,
  And we reflect his brightest praise.