Mae glwad o etifeddiaeth deg

Mae glwad o etifeddiaeth deg,
  Yn aros pawb o'r saint:
Ni ddichon dyn nag angel byth,
  Amgyffred gwerth eu braint.

Cydetifeddu gaiff y plant
  A Christ etiffedd nen;
Cânt balmwydd gwyrddion yn eu llaw,
  A choron ar eu pen.

O fewn y baradwysaidd fro,
  O gyrhaedd angen glas,
Tragwyddol bwys gogoniant fydd
  Ar etifeddion gras.

gwelir: Plant ydym eto dan ein hoed

There is a land of fair inheritance,
  Awaiting everyone of the saints:
A man is not sufficient, nor an angel ever,
  To comprehend the value of their privilege.

The children may jointly inherit
  With Christ the heir of the sky;
They will get green palms in their hand,
  And a crown on their head.

Within the paradisiacal vale,
  From the reach of bitter death,
An eternal weight of glory will be
  On the heirs of grace.