Pan glywy'r Iesu'n dweud Y bydd

Pan glywy'r Iesu'n dweud, "Y bydd
I mi gael nerth yn ol fy Nydd;"
  'Rwy'n llawenhau mewn trallod trist,
  A'm Pwys ar
      Ras digonol Crist.

Ymffrostio'r wyf mewn gwendid gwael,
Nerth Crist fel hyn
    bydd im' ei gael;
  Pan ydwyf wan, 'rwy'n gadarn Glan,
      Gras yw fy Nharian, Crist yw'm Cân.

Mi allaf wneud, neu ddiodde'n rhydd
Bob peth o's f'Arglwydd yno fydd;
  O's Poen,
      bydd Pleser am ei ben,
  Tra b'o'i Law aswy
      dan fy Mhen.

Ond o's ymedy Duw unwaith,
A'n gado'n hunain wrth y Gwaith,
  O's Profedigaeth newydd ddaw,
  Cawn wel'd ein Gwendid maes o law.

Fel Samson gollei'i Wallt un pryd,
Cwrdd â'r Philistiaid
    fu iddo'n ddrud;
  Ymdrechu â hwy yn llesg yr aeth,
  A choll'i Lygaid wedi'n wnaeth.

When I hear Jesus saying,"It will be
For me to get strength after my Day;"
  I am rejoicing in sad tribulation,
  Leaning on
      the sufficient Grace of Christ.

Boasting I am in poor weakness,
The strength of Christ thus
    will be for me to get;
  When I am weak, I am firmly Pure,
  Grace is my Shield, Christ is my Song.

I can do, or suffer freely
Everything if my Lord will be there;
  If there be Pain,
      there will be Pleasure for his head,
  While ever his left Hand
      is under my Head.

But if God once departs,
And leaves us ourselves to the Work,
  If new Testing should come,
  We would get to see our Weakness soon.

Like Samson who would lose his hair once,
Meeting with the Philistines
    which was costly to him;
  To struggling with them feebly he went,
  And lost his Eyes then he did.

Let me but hear my Saviour say,
"Strength shall be equal to thy day,"
  Then I rejoice in deep distress,
  Leaning on
      all-sufficient Grace.

I glory in infirmity,
That Christ's own power
    may rest on me;
  When I am weak, then am I strong,
  Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.

I can do all things, or can bear
All sufferings, if my Lord be there;
  Sweet pleasures mingle
      with the pains,
  While his left hand
      my head sustains.

But if the Lord be once withdrawn,
And we attempt the work alone,
  When new temptations spring and rise
  We find how great our weakness is.

So Samson, when his hair was lost,
Met the Philistines
    to his cost;
  Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise,
  Made feeble fight, and lost his eyes.