Rhyfeddol yw gweithredoedd Iôn,
Am waith ei ras
    bydd melys Son
  Ar fryniau anfarwoldeb fry;
Fe'i molir byth
    am gariad rhad,
Am brynedigaeth lawn trwy waed,
  A'i fawr amynedd atom ni.

Yr hwn sy'n dàl colofnau'r byd,
A throell naturiaeth fawr ynghyd,
  Sy'n goddef pryfed gwael y llawr,
Troseddwyr llawn o ddrwg a brâd,
Heb sathru euog fyd dan dra'd;
  Rhaid bod amynedd Duw yn fawr!

Nid danfon barn ar ffrwst o'r nef
I ladd troseddwyr drwg mae ef,
  Ond godde'n hir cyn danfon gwae;
Gan lwytho gwrthryfelwyr llawr
A llu o drugareddau mawr,
  A chadw drws y nef heb gau.

Fy enaid gwan, derchafa glod,
Mae galwad cryf am dano'n bod,
  A rhwymau mawr i ufyddhau:
Fe'th gadwyd o'r diwaelod lyn,
A gelli dd'wedyd, hyd yn hyn,
  Fod drws trugaredd heb ei gau.

             - - - - -

Rhyfeddol yw amynedd Ion!
Am waith ei ras bydd melys son,
  Ar fryniau tragwyddoldeb mawr:
Yr hwn sy'n dal colofnau'r byd,
A throell naturiaeth fawr yn nghyd,
  Sy'n goddef pryfaid gwael y llawr.

Fy enaid gwan, dyrchafa glod,
Yn nghyda'r lluoedd uwch y rhod,
  A mola'i enw i barhau:
Fe'th gadwodd o'r diwaelod lyn,
A gelli dd'wedyd, hyd yn hyn,
  Fod drws trugaredd heb ei gau.

Amazing are the works of the Lord,
For the work of his grace
    there shall be a sweet mention
  On the hills of immortality above;
He is to be praised forever
    for his free love,
For full redemption through blood,
  And his great patience towards us.

It is he who holds the pillars of the world,
And the wheel of great nature together,
  Who suffers the base worm of the ground,
Transgressors full of evil and treachery,
Without trampling a guilty world under foot;
  The patience of God must be great!

Not sending judgment in haste from heaven
To kill evil transgressors is he,
  But suffering long before sending woe;
While loading rebels down
With a host of great mercies,
  And keeping the door of heaven unclosed.

My weak soul, raise praise,
There is a strong call for it being,
  With great bonds to obey:
Thou wast kept from the bottomless lake,
And thou canst say, thus far,
  That the door of mercy is not closed.

                - - - - -

Amazing is the Lord's patience!
About work of his grace it is sweet to sound,
  On the great, eternal hills:
The one who holds the pillars of the world,
And the great circle of nature together,
  Which suffers the base worms of the ground.

My weak soul, raise praise,
Together with the hosts above the sky,
  And praise his name continually:
He kept thee from the bottomless lake,
Of which it can be said, even now,
  That the doors of eternity are not closed.