O bob rhyw beth yn bod

O bob rhyw beth yn bod,
  Rhyfeddod benaf yw,
Trwy agwrdd rym trugaredd rad,
  Ymddarostyngiad Duw:
Y BOD anfeidrol fawr,
  Un o'r gwir dramawr DRI,
Ymunai'r Person Dwyfol pur
  A'n natur egwan ni.

Wir Dduw, derbyniodd ef
  Ogoniant nef i gyd,
Bu'n ddirmygedig ymhob gwedd,
  Dan boeredd yn y byd:
O gysegr nef y gwawl,
  I'w ladd gan ddwyfawl lid,
Daeth i iseldra'r ddaear ddu,
  I brynu ei Eglwys brid.

Creawdydd y byd crwn,
  Gwel eni hwn ar lawr,
Mewn beudy'n Bethl'em dref i'r byd,
  O'r wyryf gyda'r wawr;
Mewn pob dyrchafiad pur,
  Yn Arglwydd uwch llu'r nef,
Mewn gwir ufudd-dod pur o'i fodd,
  I Fair ymddygodd Ef.

Yr iâ a'r ôd ar hynt,
  Dŵr, tân a gwynt a gair,
A chyrph olwynawg y nef lon,
  Yn gwneyd ei gyfion air;
Torf uffern ddieflig ddofn,
  Yn crynu rhag ofn Crist,
Bu i'r diffeithwch yma'n ffoi,
  Neu'n troi rhag niwaid trist.

Er fod y gwlyboedd glân,
  A'r mŷr i'w lydan law,
Holl faesydd byd i gyd ei g'oedd
  Weithredoedd yma a thraw,
Creawdydd rhedlif rhydd
  Afonydd Asia fawr,
Yn dyoddef caled syched sy',
  Ac yn newynu'n awr.

Yn marchog ar y gwynt,
  Ar ddwyfol hynt wir ddoeth,
Y cwmwl gwyllt, ac yn y gwawl,
  Y Cerub nefawl coeth,
A'i enw mawr yn JAH, -
  Ond yma gwelwyd Ef,
Yr Iesu gwyn ar asyn gwael,
  Ar drafael tua'r dref.

Goruchel gywir Iôn,
  Mewn barn yn llwyio'n byd,
Yn myned dan gondemniad du,
  Yn dyodde' 'i farnu'n fud;
Cyfranu ger ei fron
  Fendithion rif dail,
Ei hun yn felldith cawn ei fod,
  Neu'n bechod heb ei ail.

Y BOD anorfod byw,
  Marw ydyw yn ei waed,
Ac awdwr bywyd yn y bedd,
  Yn gorwedd obry a gaed;
Ond cyfyd gyd a'r gair
  Drwy'r gyfraith oedd ar goll,
Ar hyn mae'r engyl, gorchwyl gwych,
  Yn chwenych edrych oll.

Of every kind of thing there is,
  The highest wonder is,
Through the mighty force of free mercy,
  The self-abasement of God:
The great immeasurable BEING,
  One of the true exceedingly great THREE,
Would join the pure, Divine Person
  With our weak nature.

True God, he received
  All the glory of heaven,
He was despised in every way,
  Under spitting in the world:
From the sanctuary of the heaven of light,
  To be killed by divine wrath,
He came to the lowliness of the black earth,
  To purchase his costly Church.

The Creator of the round world,
  See his birth on earth,
In a byre in Bethlehem town for the world,
  Of the virgin with the dawn;
In every pure exaltation,
  As Lord above the host of heaven,
In true, pure submission voluntarily,
  To Mary He devoted himself.

The ice and the snow on a course,
  Water, fire and wind and word,
And wheeled bodies of the cheerful heaven,
  Making his righteous word;
The deep, devilish throng of hell,
  Trembling from fear of Christ,
Did to the desert here flee,
  Or turn from sad evil.

Although the clean rains,
  And the seas be to his hand's breadth,
All the world's fields together his public
  Activiies here and yonder,
The Creator of free-running streams
  The rivers of great Asia,
Suffering harsh thirst now is,
  And starving now.

Riding on the wind,
  On a true, wise, divine course,
The wild cloud, and in the light,
  The excellent heavenly Cherub,
And his great name JAH, -
  But here He was seen,
The blessed Jesus on a lowly ass,
  Travelling towards the town.

The supreme, true Lord,
  In judgment governing the world,
Going under black condemnation,
  Suffering his being judged mutely;
Distributing before him
  Blessings numerous as leaves,
He himself becoming damned,
  Or sin without equal.

The living, insuperable BEING,
  Dying he is in his blood,
And the author of life in his grave,
  Lying beneath is found;
But he will will rise together with the word
  Which through the law was lost,
At this the angels, wonderful task, are
  All longing to look.