O mor hardd yw traed y rhai

O mor hardd yw traed y rhai
  Sydd yn cyhoeddi hedd;
Sion gorfoleddu mae
  Wrth iddi wel'd ei gwedd.



Enill dynion at eu Duw
  Yw eu hyfrydaf waith;
Gwneud eneidiau marw'n fyw
  I dragwyddoldeb maith.



Gyda chlod i Dduw a Christ,
  Mi a'ch derbyniwn chwi;
Llawenhaed eneidiau trist,
  Mae'n nefoedd gyda ni.

O how beautiful are the feet of those
  Who are publishing peace;
Zion is jubilant
  As she sees their countenance.



Winning men for their God
  Is their most delightful work;
Making dead souls alive
  For a vast eternity.



With acclaim to God and Christ,
  We receive you;
Let sad souls rejoice,
  Heaven is with us.

How beauteous are their feet,
  Who stand on Sion's hill,
Who bring salvation on their tongues
  And words of peace reveal!

How happy are our ears
  That hear this happy sound,
Which kings and prophets waited for,
  And sought, but never found!

How blessèd are our eyes
  That see this heavenly light,
Prophets and kings desired it long,
  But died without the sight!

The Lord makes bare his arm
  Through all the earth abroad:
Let every nation now behold
  Their Saviour and their God.