Draw ar gopa bryn Golgotha

Draw ar gopa bryn Golgotha,
   Bu'r ymladdfa fwya' erioed;
 'R Oen heb gleddeu na grym arfau,
   'N sathru dreigiau dan ei droed;
 Er ei ludded mawr
     a'i syched,
   Wrth orchfygu uffern lu,
 Fe gaed ffynon yn ei galon,
   Ylch yn wyn yr Ethiop du.

Golchwyd Magdalen yn ddysglaer,
  A Manasse'n hyfryd wỳn,
Yn y dwfr a'r gwaed a lifodd
  Maes o'i ystlys ar y bryn:
Pwy a ŵyr na olchir finau?
  Pwy a ŵyr na byddaf byw?
Mae rhyw drysor anchwiliadwy
  O drugaredd yn fy Nuw.

              - - - - -

Draw ar gopa bryn Golgotha
  Bu'r ymladdfa fwya' 'rioed;
'R Oen heb gleddyf na grym arfau
  'N sathru dreigiau dan ei droed;
Ef mewn ludded mawr a syched,
  Wrth orchfygu uffern lu,
Eto ffynon yn Ei galon,
  Ylch yn wyn yr Ethiop du.

'Fe yw'r Iawn fu
    rhwng y lladron,
  Dyoddefodd angau loes;
Nerthodd freichiau'i
    ddihenyddwyr,
  I'w hoelio'n greulon wrth y groes;
Ac wrth dalu yno'n dyled,
  Anrhydeddu deddf ei Dad,
Hardd ddysgleirio'r oedd cyfiawnder,
  Ninau'n rhydd trwy'r
      cymod rhad.

F'enaid, gwel y fan gorweddodd
  Pen brenhinoedd, Awdwr hedd;
Y greadigaeth ynddo'n symmud,
  Yntau'n farw yn y bedd:
Rhan a bywyd colledigion,
  Syndod holl angylion nef, -
Duw mewn cnawd, - ei gyd-addoli
  Maent, gan weddi, "Iddo Ef."

              - - - - -

Draw ar gopa bryn Golgotha,
  Bu'r ymladdfa fwya' erioed;
Oen heb gleddau na grym arfau,
  'N sathru dreigiau dan ei droed;
Ef mewn syched mawr, a lludded,
  Wrth orchfygu uffern lu,
Eto ffynnon yn ei galon,
  I olchi'n wyn yr Ethiop du.

O ddyfnderoedd rhyfeddodau,
  Wela' i draw ar bren y groes!
Deffro f' enaid a myfyria
  Arno'n ddyfal ddydd a nos;
Brenin cyfiawn yn dyoddef,
  Llu o fradwyr ddo'nt yn rhydd;
Dyled myrddiwn o fyrddiynau,
  Yno dalodd y Meichniydd.

O pwy feddwl all ddych'mygu,
  O pwy ddawn all ddodi ma's,
Filfed ran o'r pur hapusrwydd,
  Ddaw i etifeddion gras!
Buddugoliaeth ar elynion,
  Gwisgoedd hardd fel lliain main,
Enillodd Iesu dan y poenau,
  Y gwawd, y llid,
      a'r goron ddrain.

              - - - - -

Draw, ar gopa bryn Golgotha,
  Bu'r ymladdfa fwya' erioed -
'R Oen heb gleddau na grym arfau,
  'N sathru dreigiau dan ei droed:
Er mewn lludded mawr a syched
  Wrth orchfygu uffern lu;
Eto ffynnon yn ei galon
 I olchi'n wyn yr Ethiop du.

Golch fy enaid yn y ffynnon,
  Nes it' wneyd y brwnt yn lân;
Llanw 'nghalon oer, ddigariad,
  A gwresogrwydd nefol dân:
Dyro ran o'r holl rinweddau
  Pur sydd ynot Ti dy Hun,
Fel na byddwyf aflan mwyach,
  Ond yn berffaith ar dy lun.

O! er mwyn y gwaed dywalltwyd,
  Dwr a gwaed o'i ystlys Ef,
Tyn bob owmwl sy'n tywyllu
  Rhwng fy enaid 'nawr a'r nef:
Gad im' brofi ffrwyth ei glwyfau,
  Gad im' deimlo rhîn ei waed;
Gad im' weled gwedd dy wyneb
  O fy Mhrynwr, a fy a fy Nhad!

gwelir:
  Bydd melys gofio y cyfammod
  Capten mawr ein hiachawdwriaeth
  Dychwel Arglwydd i'th orphwysfa
  Dyma Frawd a anwyd ini
  'Fe yw'r Iawn fu rhwng y lladron
  F'enaid gwêl y fan gorweddodd
  Golchwyd Magdalen yn ddisglair/ddysglaer
  Mae fy nghalon am ehedeg
  Nid eill moroedd mawrion llydain
  Nid yw 'ngweddi nid yw 'nagrau
  O er mwyn y gwaed a gollwyd
  O er mwyn y gwaed dywalltwyd
  O fy enaid cwyd dy olwg
  Rhyfedd rhyfedd gan angylion

Yonder on the summit of Calvary hill,
  Was the greatest fight ever;
The Lamb without swords or armaments,
  Trampling dragons under his foot;
Despite his great exhaustion
    and his thirst,
  While overcoming a hellish host,
There came a fountain in his heart,
  To wash white the black Ethiopian.

Magdalen was washed bright,
  And Manasseh beautifully white,
In the water and the blood which flowed
  Out of his side on the hill:
Who knows that I too am not to be washed?
  Who knows that I will not live?
There is some unsearchable treasure
  Of mercy in my God.

                 - - - - -

Yonder on the summit of Golgotha hill
  Was the greatest fight ever;
The Lamb without sword or force of arms
  Trampling dragons under his foot;
He in great exhaustion and thirst,
  While overcoming a hellish host,
Still a fountain in His heart,
  Which washes white the black Ethiopian.

He is the Ransom that was
    between the thieves,
  He suffered the throes of death;
He strengthened the arms of his
    executioner,
  To nail him cruelly to the cross;
And while paying there our debt,
  He honoured his Father's law,
Beautifully radiant was righteousness,
  And we free through the
     free reconciliation.

My soul, see the place where lay
  The Chief of kinds, the Author of peace;
In whom the creation moves,
  He dead in the grave:
Portion and life of lost ones,
  The wonder of all the angels of heaven, -
God in flesh, - worshipping him together
  They are, while shouting, "Unto Him."

              - - - - -

Yonder on the summit of Golgotha,
  Was the greatest slaughter ever;
A Lamb without swords or force of weapons,
  Trampling dragons under his feet;
He in great thirst, and exhaustion,
  While overcoming a hellish host,
Yet a fountain in his heart,
  To wash white the black Ethiopian.

O depths of wonders,
  I see yonder on the wood of the cross!
Awake my soul and meditate
  Upon him devotedly day and night;
The King of righteousness suffering,
  A host of betrayers coming free;
The debt of a myriad of myriads,
  There the Surety paid.

O whose thought can imagine,
  O whose skill can set forth,
A thousandth part of the pure happiness,
  That shall come to the heirs of grace!
Victory over enemies,
  Beautiful garments like fine linen
Jesus won under his pains,
  The scorn, the wrath,
      and the crown of thorns.

                 - - - - -

Yonder, on the summit of the hill Golgotha,
  Was the greatest fight ever -
The Lamb without swords nor force of arms,
  Trampling dragons under his feet:
Although in great exhaustion and thirst
  While overcoming the force of hell;
Still a fount in his heart
  To wash white the black Ethiopian.

Wash my soul in the fount,
  Until thou make the filthy clean;
Flood my cold, unloving heart,
  With the warmth of heavenly fire:
Give a portion of all the pure
  Merit that is in Thee Thyself,
that I be no longer unclean,
  But perfectly in thy image.

O, for the sake of the blood poured out,
  Water and blood from His side,
Pull every cloud that is darkening
  Between my soul now and heaven:
Let me experience the fruit of his wounds,
  Let me feel the virtue of his blood;
Let me see the aspect of his face
  O my Redeemer, and my Father!

Golgotha! the greatest battle