O f'enaid moria bellach

O f'enaid moria bellach,
  Y'mlaen tua'r hyfryd wlad,
Fe rwygodd Iesu'r stormydd,
  Oddi yma i dy fy Nhad:
Ac fel hwy 'mlaen yn morio,
  Gâd i mi gael o hyd,
Arogli o'i rhinweddau,
  A gwel'd ei thrysor drud.

Pa ham na thrown fy ngolwg,
  Fyth tua'r nefoedd wen,
Y'nghanol pob terfysgoedd,
  Wy'n weled îs y nen;
Fy Iesu sy'n rheoli,
  Yr afreolus lu,
O ddyfnder uffern isod,
  I bellder nefoedd fry.

Duw rho imi ffydd i edrych,
  Y'mhob caethiwed du,
A phechod arnai'n gwasgu,
  I fynydd Calfari;
Gwna i fy nghalon brofi,
  Fod dy anfeidrol loes,
Yn lloches gynhes dawel,
  Yn wastad tan y groes.

gwelir: Rhan II - Ni edrychaf ar ddim arall

O my soul, sail henceforth,
  Forward towards the delightful land,
Jesus rent the storms,
  From here to my Father's house:
And like them sailing onward,
  Let me get always,
To smell of his merits,
  And see his costly treasure.

Why would I not turn my sight,
  Ever towards the bright heavens,
In the midst of all tumults,
  I am seeing under the sky?
My Jesus is ruling,
  The unruly host
From the depth of hell below,
  To the extremity of heaven above.

God, give me faith to look,
  In every black captivity,
And sin upon me pressing,
  To the mount of Calvary;
Make my heart experience,
  That thy immeasurable anguish is,
A warm, quiet refuge,
  Constantly under the cross.