O tyred, Iôr tragwyddol,
  Mae ynot ti dy hun
Fwy moroedd o drugaredd
  Nag a feddyliodd dyn:
Os deui at bechadur,
  A'i godi ef i'r lan,
Ei galon gaiff, a'i dafod,
  Dy ganmol yn y man.

Gwaredu'r saint rhag uffern
  A phechod drwg ei ryw,
O safn y bedd ac angau,
  A'u dwyn i fynwes Duw,
Eu harwain dros fynyddoedd,
  A thrwy yr anial chwith,
A grea nef y nefoedd
  Yn gân heb ddiwedd byth.

gwelir: Pa dduw ymhlith y duwiau?

O come, eternal Lord,
  There are in thyself
Greater seas of mercy
  Than man has thought:
If thou shouldst come to a sinner,
  And raise him up,
His heart may have, and his tongue,
  Thy praise-song soon.

Delivering the saints from hell
  And sin of a wicked kind,
From the jaws of the grave and death,
  And taking them to God's breast,
Leading them across mountains,
  And through the sinister desert,
Which creates the heaven of heavens
  In a song without ever an end.