O rewlyd fryniau Greenland

O rewlyd fryniau Greenland,
  O draethau India lòn;
O lanau hen afonydd,
  Lle bwriwyd myrdd i'r dòn;
O lawer bro balmwyddawg,
  Mae llef yn gwaeddi'n brudd -
"O rwymau cyfeiliornad,
  Ein gwlad O! rhowch yn rhydd."

Er teimlo mwyn awelon,
  Pereidiaf dan y ne';
Pob trem yn wir ddymunol,
  Heb ddim ond dyn o'i le;
Yn ofer y gwasgara
  Ein Iôr ei rhoddion hael,
Y pagan yn ei dd'w'llwch,
  A plyg i'r eilun gwael.

A allwn ni oleuwyd
  A llewyrch oddifry,
A allwn gadw rhagddynt
  Oleuni'r bywyd cu!
Efengl! fwyn Efengyl!
  Dy sain a lanw'r llawr,
Nes delo'r holl genhedloedd
  I 'nabod Iesu mawr.

Awelon ewch a'i hanes!
  Chwi ddyfroedd cludwch hon;
Nes megys môr gogonawl,
  Y llenwo'r ddaear gron;
Nes delo'r Oen a laddwyd,
  I wared euog fyd,
Mewn heddwch i deyrnasu
  Dros ddynolryw i gyd.

From the icy hills of Greenland,
  From the beaches of cheerful India;
From the banks of ancient rivers,
  Where a myriad were cast into the wave;
From many a palm-festooned vale,
  A cry is shouting sadly -
"From the bonds of going astray,
  Our land O set ye free!"

Despite feeling the most sweet,
  Gentle breezes under heaven;
Every vista truly desirable,
  With only man out of place;
Vainly does our Lord scatter
  His generous gifts,
The pagan in his darkness,
  Bows to the base idol.

Can we who were enlightened
  With radiance from above,
Can we keep from them
  The dear light of life?
Gospel! gentle Gospel!
  Thy sound shall flood the earth below,
Until all nations come
  To know great Jesus.

Ye breezes, take his story!
  Ye waters convey this;
Until like a glorious sea,
  It fills the round earth;
Until the Lamb who was slain
  To deliver guilty man,
Comes in peace to reign
  Over all humankind.

From Greenland's icy mountains,
  From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
  Roll down their golden sand:
From many an ancient river,
  From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
  Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes
  Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
  And only man is vile?
In vain with lavish kindness
  The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness
  Bows down to wood and stone.

Shall we, whose souls are lighted
  With wisdom from on high,
Shall we to those benighted
  The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation!
  The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation
  Has learned Messiah's name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story,
  And you, ye waters, roll
Till, like a sea of glory,
  It spreads from pole to pole:
Till o'er our ransomed nature
  The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, king, creator,
  In bliss returns to reign.