Os oes rhyw ddadl hyfryd

Os oes rhyw ddadl hyfryd,
Yn bod yn nhir y bywyd,
  Rhyw unfryd gydfod;
Pwy sydd â'r dyled mwyaf,
A'r hawl i ganu uchaf,
  Am faddeu pechod;
Bydd ple gan innau yn y ne',
  Yn mysg y miloedd,
I'r lan a gododd
  Duw o'r dyfnderoedd;
Erioed ni ddygodd e'
  Yr un mor anhaeddiannol, 
I mewn i'r nefol le. 
  Un iaith fydd gan y dyrfa faith, 
    I'r hwn a'n carodd,
    I'r hwn a'n golchodd, 
    Ac a'n gwaredodd 
  O'r lleoedd lleidiog llaith!
Gan ddyblu'r anthem hyfryd 
  Mewn gwynfyd - dyna'u gwaith.

If there is any delightful argument,
Being in the land of the living,
  Some unanimous concord;
Who has the greatest debt,
And the right to sing loudest,
  About forgiving sins;
There will be for me a place in heaven,
  Amongst the thousands,
Whom God has put
  Up from the depths;
Never brought he
  The one so undeserving,
Into the heavenly place.
  One language the vast throng shall have,
    To him who loved us,
    To him who washed us,
    And delivered us
  From the damp, miry places!
Doubling the delightful anthem
  In paradise - that is their work.

If there be holy contest
Who ought to sing the loudest
  On plains of heaven;
Who most to Christ indebted,
Who loftiest exalted,
  Being most forgiven:
A plea there will appear for me;
  For of the many,
  Whom sovereign Mercy,
  With arm almighty,
May raise that state to see,
  No one more undeserving
Of joy so great can be.
One song shall echo through the throng:
  "To Him who loved us:
  To Him who washed us:
  To Him who saved us,
From deep and miry clay!"
The thrilling anthem doubling,
  Unending, night and day.