Pwy ddamnia'r Etholedig rai?

Pwy ddamnia'r Etholedig rai?
Can's Duw sydd yn eu cyfiawnau;
  A Gwaed yr Oen
      fel Ffrwd neu Nant
  Yn tynnu eu Pechodau i bant.

Pwy farna'r Saint i Uffern mwy?
Crist a fu farw drostynt hwy;
  I gwpla'r Iechydwriaeth wiw,
  Cyfododd ef o farw i fyw.

A byw yw ef, mae'n eistedd fry,
Dros byth i eiriol drosom ni;
  Oddi wrth ei Gariad pwy'n gwahân?
  Neu'n temtia i anobeithio'n lan?

Nid erlid mawr,
    na thrallod maith,
Newyn na Chledd na noethni 'chwaith,
  Yr hwn a'n carodd a'n cryfha,
  Mwy na Chongcwerwyr fe a'n gwna.

Ffydd sy'n gofchfygu
    a'i Nerth mawr,
Mae'n gorfoleddu yn Angau awr;
  Crist yw ein Bywyd ni a'n Grym,
  Tro'r Atteg hon ni chwympwn ddim.

Nid dim ag allo dynion wneud,
Na Diafol y Cyhyddwr ddweud,
  All droi'i Drugaredd ef er hyn,
  Neu'n Calon oddiwrth Crist a dynn.

Who will condemn the Chosen ones?
Since it is God who justifies them;
  With the Blood of the Lamb
      as a Stream or Brook
  Drawing their Sins away.

Who will judge the Saints to Hell any more?
It is Christ who died for them;
  To complete the worthy Salvation,
  He rose from dead to alive.

And alive is he, he is seated above,
For ever to intercede for us;
  From his Love who will separate us?
  Or tempt us to total hopelessness?

Not great persecution,
    nor extensive tribulation,
Hunger nor sword nor nakedness either,
  He who loved us will strengthen us,
  More than Conquerors he will make us.

It is faith which overcomes
    with its great Strength,
It is rejoicing in Death now;
  Christ is our Live and our Force,
  This Buttress will cause us not to fall.

There is nothing men can do,
Nor the Devil, the Accuser say,
  That can turn his Mercy despite this,
  Or our Heart away from Christ who draws.

Who shall the Lord's elect condemn?
  'Tis God that justifies their souls,
And mercy like
    a mighty stream
  O'er all their sins divinely rolls.

Who shall adjudge the saints to hell?
  'Tis Christ that suffer'd in their stead,
And the salvation to fulfil,
  Behold him rising from the dead.

He lives, he lives, and sits above,
  For ever interceding there:
Who shall divide us from his love?
  Or what should tempt us to despair?

Shall persecution,
    or distress,
  Famine, or sword, or nakedness?
He that hath lov'd us bears us thro',
  And makes us more than conquerors too.

Faith hath
    an overcoming power,
  It triumphs in the dying hour;
Christ is our life, our joy, our hope,
  Nor can we sink with such a prop.

Not all that men on earth can do,
  Nor powers on high, nor powers below,
Shall cause his mercy to remove,
Or wean our hearts from Christ our love.