Pwy ydyw hon sy'n deg ei Phryd?

Pwy ydyw hon sy'n deg ei phryd
A yn teithio fynu o'r anial fyd?
  Gan faint y blinder mae'n ei ddwyn
  Ei phwys sydd ar ei Harglwydd mwyn.

Hon yw dyweddi Crist ein Duw,
A phwrcas ei Waed gwerthfawr yw
  Ei chwyn a'u dymuniadau maent
  'R un a lleferydd
      pawb o'r saint.

O gad mewn argraph f'enw gwael
Fod ar dy law a'th galon hael;
  Selia fi ar dy fraich fel nod,
  Mae eiddo fyth i ti
      caf fod.

Cryfach nag angau yw'th gariad gwn,
Llifogydd llid ni's boddent hwn;
  I'r byd ac uffern ofer yw
  Byth geisio diffodd cariad Duw.

Ond ofni nghalon ddrwg yr wy'i,
Rhag iddi 'mado oddi wrthyt mwy;
  Am hynny dod dy enw'n llon
  Fel disglair sel ar fy nwy fron.

Ne's dygech i'r lle, ni ddaw
Amheuon byth nac ofn na braw;
  Rho'n fynych wel'd dy wyneb di
  A mynych glywi 'ddi wrthyf fi.

Tyred f'Anwylyd, brysia o hyd,
Cwttoga'r oriau heb aros cyd:
  Fel iwrch neu hydd ehed fy Ner
  Dros ben mynyddau'r
      llysiau per.

Pwy ydyw hon sy'n deg ei phryd
A yn teithio i'r lan o'r anial fyd?
  Gan faint y blinder mae'n ei ddwyn
  Ei phwys sydd ar ei Harglwydd mwyn.

O gâd, medd hi, i'm henw gwael
Fod ar dy law a'th galon hael;
  A selia ar dy fraich fel nôd,
  Mae eiddo byth i ti gaf fod.

A dod o'th ras
    dy enw'n llon,
Fel disglair sel ar fy nwy fron,
  Ne's dygech fi 'r lle ni ddaw
  Amheuon byth, na phoen, na braw.

Who is this who is fair of countenance
And travelling up from the desert world?
  With the extent of grief she is bearing
  She is leaning on our dear Lord.

This is the betrothed of Christ our God,
And the purpose of his precious blood is
  Her complaint and their requests are
  The same as the utterance
      of all of the saints.

O let in the engraving of my poor name
Be on thy hand and thy generous heart;
  Seal me on thy arm like a mark,
  That belonging forever to thee
      I may get to be.

Stronger than death is thy love I know,
Floods of wrath shall not drown this;
 To the world and hell, useless it is
  Ever to try to extinguish the love of God.

But fearing of my evil heart I am,
Lest it depart from thee evermore;
  Therefore put thy name cheerfully
  Like a shining seal on my two breasts.

Until thou lead to the place, let no doubts
Ever come, nor fear, nor terror;
  Grant often to see thy face
  And often may it hear me.

Come, my Beloved, hurry along,
Shorten the hours without waiting so long:
  Like a stag or a hind fly, my Master,
  Across the head of the Mountain
      of the sweet herbs.

Who is this who is fair of countenance
And travelling up from the desert world?
  With the extent of grief she is bearing
  She is leaning on our dear Lord.

O let, says she, my poor name
Be on thy hand thy generous heart;
  And seal on thy arm like a mark,
  That belonging forever to thee I may be.

And put some of the grace
    of thy cheerful name,
Like a shining seal on my two breasts,
  Until thou lead me where shall not come
  Ever doubts, or pain, or terror.