Y Gras yr hedd a'r purdeb oll

Y Gras, yr hedd, a'r purdeb oll,
Roed im' yn Eden aeth ar goll;
  Ni welai'n berffaith
    tra fwyf byw
  Fy hen 'madawiad gynt a Duw.

Rhyfeddu'r wyf, rhyfeddaf byth
Na buaswn mewn ufernol nyth,
  Rhyfeddaf fwy os f'enaid ddaw
  Trwy'r anial drwg i'r nefoedd draw.

Gelynion sydd o fesur mawr,
Yn curo f'enaid bach i lawr:
  Rhaid im' gael profi
      rhîn dy waed,
  Cyn cael pob gelyn dan fy nhraed.

Cryf yw dy fraich, mawr yw dy rym,
Nid oes a saif yn ei herbyn ddim;
  Gair o dy enau di dy hun,
  Gwymp fy ngelynion bob rhyw un.

O Arglwydd gad i'm dy fwynhau,
Ac onide 'rwi'n llwfrhau;
  P'le cair yn un lle dan y ne,
  Un math o gysur yn dy le?

Fel disgwyl y gwyliedydd prudd,
O awr i awr am olau'r dydd;
  Ac felly finnau o bryd i bryd,
  Sy'n disgwyl am dy wyneb-pryd.

'Does îs a nêf a ddeil i'r làn,
Ond ti dy hun fy ysbryd gwan;
  Nerth sy'n dy air,
      mae'n fwy ei rym,
  Na gallu llwyr pob gelyn llym.

              - - - - -

Y gras, yr hedd, a'r purdeb oll,
Roed im' yn Eden aeth ar goll;
  Ni welaf bellder,
      tra f'wyf byw,
  Fy hen 'madawiad gynt â Duw.

Creaduriaid mân nid aent mor bell,
Eu braint cadwasant lawer gwell,
  Heb ballu rhoi
      i'w Harglwydd glod,
  O ddechreu'r byd,
      heb bechu erioed.

Rhyfeddu'r wyf, rhyfeddaf byth,
Na buaswn mewn uffernol nyth;
  Rhyfeddaf fwy os f'enaid ddaw
  Trwy'r d'rysni mewn i'r nefoedd draw.

Rhyfeddu wnaf im' ddyfod byth,
Trwy demtasiynau rîf y gwlith;
  A gweled myrdd mewn pydew du,
  Gynt dybiais fod yn well na mi.

Rhyfeddaf arfaeth gref ddi gryn,
Tragwyddol gynghor Tri yn Un,
  A'm cadwodd ar y llwybr cul,
  Ynghanol gwrthgiliadau fil.

gwelir:
  Oen Duw trag'wyddol Fab y Tad
  Troseddodd Adda pen pob dyn
  Un ynfyd wyf heb fedru dim

The grace, the peace, and all the purity,
Given to me in Eden has gone lost;
  I shall not see perfectly
      while ever I live
  My former departure from God.

Wondering I am, wondering forever
That I am not in an infernal nest,
  I will wonder more if my soul should come
  Through the evil desert to yonder heaven.

Enemies of a great measure, are
Beating my little soul down:
  I must get to experience
      the virtue of thy blood,
  Before getting every enemy under my feet.

Strong is thy arm, great is thy force,
Nothing shall stand against it at all;
  A word from thy own mouth,
  Every one of my enemies shall fall.

O Lord let me enjoy thee,
Otherwise I am losing heart;
  Where is to be got any place under heaven,
  Any sort of comfort in thy place?

As the sad watchman waits,
From hour to hour for the light of day;
  So am I from time to time,
  Who am waiting for thy countenance.

Nothing under heaven shall hold up,
But thou thyself, my weak spirit;
  Strength is thy word,
      it is of greater force,
  Than the whole power of every keen enemy.

                - - - - -

The grace, the peace, and all the purity,
Given to me in Eden, went lost;
  I will not see the distance,
      while ever I live,
  Of my old former departure from God.

Small creatures did not go so far,
Their privilege they left much better,
  Without fading to give
    to their Lord praise,
  From the beginning of the world,
      without ever sinning.

Wondering I am, wondering forever,
That I would not be in an infernal nest;
  I shall wonder more if my soul come
  Through the entanglement into yonder heaven.

Wondering I am to come ever,
Through temptations numerous as the dew;
  And see a myriad in a black pit,
  Who formerly I supposed better than I.

I wonder at a strong, unshakeable armour,
The eternal counsel of Three in One,
  Which kept me on the narrow path,
  In the midst of a thousand retreats.