Mae brodyr i mi aeth o'r blaen,
  Yn holl-iach a chyttūn;
Deng mīl o filoedd yw eu cān,
  Er hyn nid y'nt ond un.

Mae pawb o'r brodyr yno'n un,
  Heb neb yn tynnu'n groes;
Yn moli'r Duwdod yn y dyn,
   A chofio'i angau loes.

Ni welir yno un rhyw boen
  Na neb yn achwyn clwy;
Ond pawb mewn hwyl yn moli'r Oen,
  I drag'wyddoldeb mwy.

Ymhlith y rhai'n caiff f'enaid gwan,
  Heb gystudd, gwae, na phoen;
Ynghyd a'r dyrfa faith ddi ri',
  Dweud "Teilwng ydyw'r Oen."

Mae brodyr i mi aeth y'mlaen
  Yn holl-iach a chyttun;
Deng mil o filoedd yw eu cān,
  Er hyn nid yw ond un.

Mae pawb o'r brodyr yno'n un,
  Heb neb yn tynnu'n groes;
Yn moli'r Duwdod yn y dyn,
   A chofio angau loes.

Ceir gweled gweddi f'Arglwydd mān,
  A'i eiriau oll ar ben;
A phawb yn foddlon i'w eu 'stad,
  A'i alwad uwch y llen.

Ni theimlir yno unrhyw boen,
  Na chwyno gan un clwy',
Ond pawb mewn hwyl yn moli'r Oen,
  I drag'wyddoldeb mwy.

Bydd yr holl lestri yno'n llawn,
  O olew, gras, a hedd;
Heb brinder arnynt fore a nawn,
  Nac ofn colli ei wedd.

Cymmylau duon ffoant ffwrdd,
  Terfysgoedd o bob rhyw;
Holl nwydau nattur,
    hyll eu twrdd,
  A'n ddim yngwydd fy Nuw.

Daw'r holl dduwiolion yno ynghyd,
  O'r gogledd, de, heb ri',
A'u holl gadwynau'n chwilfriw mān,
  A'u cān am Galfari.

Caiff f'enaid inau, cyn bo hir,
  Heb ofid, dur, na phoen,
Yn nghyda'r dorf ddyrchafu llef,
  Mai "Teilwng ydyw'r Oen."

Plant ydym etto dan ein hoed
  Yn disgwyl am y stād,
Mae'r etifeddiaeth i ni'n d'od,
  Wrth destament ein Tad.

N'ād fi foddloni
    mewn rhyw rith
  O grefydd heb ei grym,
Ond gwir adnabod Iesu Grist
  Yn fywyd anwyl im'.

gwelir:
  Mae'n henwau'n sgrifenedig fry
  Mi ymddiriedaf yn ei Air
  N'ad im fodloni ar ryw rith
  Plant ydym etto dan ein hoed
  Tystiolaeth gadarn Brenin nef

I have brothers who have gone ahead,
  Made whole and in agreement;
Ten thousand thousand are their songs,
  And yet they are only one.

All of the brothers there are as one,
  Without any being contrary;
Praising the Godhead in the man,
  And remembering his throes of death.

No pain is to be seen there
  Nor any complaining of a wound;
But all in mirth praising the Lamb,
  For eternity evermore.

Among those my weak soul may get,
  Without affliction, woe or pain;
Together with the vast unnumbered throng,
  To say "Worthy is the Lamb."

I have brothers who have gone ahead
  Made whole and in agreement;
A thousand thousand are their songs,
  And yet still but one.

All of the brothers there are as one,
  Without any being contrary;
Praising the Divine in the man,
   And remembering a fatal pang.

My Lord's prayer is to be seen,
  With all its words fulfilled;
And everyone satisfied with his estate,
  And his call above the curtain.

There is not to be felt there any pain,
  Or complaint from any wound,
But all in mirth praising the Lamb,
  For eternity evermore.

All the vessels there shall be full,
  Of oil, grace, and peace;
Without scarcity morning or afternoon,
  Nor fear of losing one's countenance.

Black clouds flee away,
  Tumults of every kind;
All the lusts of nature,
    ugly their blustering,
  Going to nothing in the sight of my God.

All the godly will come together,
  From the north, south, without number,
with all their chains smashed to bits,
  And their song about Calvary.

My own soul will get, before long,
  Without fear, blow, or pain,
Together with the multitude raise a cry,
  That "Worthy is the Lamb."

Children are we still under our age,
  Waiting for the state;
The inheritance is coming to us
  According to our Father's testament.

Let me not be satisfied
    with any kind of pretence
  Of faith without its force,
But recognize Jesus Christ
  As my dear life.

We are but children under age,
  With patience waiting still
For that eternal heritage,
  Giv'n in our Father's will.