Pe meddwn ar angylaidd dawn

Pe meddwn ar angylaidd dawn,
Fy Iesu, âg ef ei foli wnawn;
  Trwy anial wlad myn'd yn ei law,
  'Rw'i'n awr i dre' Caersalem draw.

I Bisga o'r diwedd f'enaid daeth,
Wel'd gwlad yn llifo o fêl a llaeth;
  Y Ganaan wiw, Paradwys well,
  Gorphwysfa'r pererinion pell.

Caersalem dêg a chartre'm Duw,
Mae'r Iesu a laddwyd yno'n fyw;
  Yn awr y gwn fod yno gaingc,
  Gan seintiau fil o ddeutu'r faingc.

Yno mae gwaed dros f'enaid gwan,
Yn dadleu'n rhwydd bob awr o'm rhan;
  Mae yno lu, mi âf i'w plith,
  Heb 'mado na rhoi ffarwel byth.

Mi wela'm lle o fewn i'r llen,
A'm enw fry ar garreg wen;
  Y goron bur a
      ga'wd trwy boen,
  A gwaed y croeshoeliedig Oen.

Wela fe ga's fy nghalon gu,
Wledd ag sydd gan angylaidd lu;
  Mae f'enaid bach yn awr mewn hwyl,
  'Fyn'd at y saint i gadw gwyl.

Pa bryd troi'n ol Iorddonen ddu,
Gael myn'd yn frau i'r Ganaan fry;
  Dan hyfryd wlith y nefol wlad,
  Ga's Abra'm hy
      a'i sanctaidd had.

Mi rof fy mhwys ar f'anwyl Grist,
Nes passo glyn wylofain drist;
  O nerth i nerth
      mi ddof i'r wledd,
  Sydd gan y saint tu draw i'r bedd.

O tyr'd yn awr, côd fi, fy Ner,
Ar aden eryr uwch y ser!
  'Gael myn'd ar naid
      i'm dedwydd nyth,
  O fewn i byrth Caersalem byth.

gwelir: I Bisga o'r diwedd f'enaid daeth

If I possessed angelic talent,
My Jesus, with it praise him I would;
  Through a desert land going in his hand,
  I am now to the city of Jerusalem yonder.

To Pisgah at land my soul came,
To see a land flowing with honey and milk;
  The worthy Canaan, a better Paradise,
  The distant pilgrims' resting-place.

Fair Jerusalem and the home of my God,
Jesus who was slain is living there;
  Now I know there is a strain there,
  By a thousand saints around the throne.

There blood is for my weak soul,
Pleading freely every hour on my behalf;
  There is a host, I will go among them,
  Without leaving or ever bidding farewell.

I see my place within the curtain,
And my name above on a white stone;
  The pure crown that was
      that was got through the pain,
  And blood of the crucified Lamb.

I see my dear heart got,
A feast that is for an angelic host;
  My little soul is now in a good mood,
  To go to the saints to keep festival.

When will black Jordan turn back,
To get to go soon to the Canaan above?
  Under the heavenly land's delightful dew,
  That Abraham got boldly
      and his holy seed.

I will lean on my dear Christ,
Until passing the vale of sad lamenting;
  From strength to strength
      I will come to the feast,
  Which is for the saints beyond the grave.

O come now, raise me, my Master,
On an eagle's wing above the stars!
  To get to go with a leap
      to my happy nest,
  Within the portals of Jerusalem forever.