Torf o 'mrodyr sydd yn gorwedd,
  Yn y bedd anghofys dir,
Yn y dyffryn lle maent hwythau,
  Byddaf finnau cyn b'o hir
    Lle ni chlywir,
  Dim o swn gofydiau'r byd.

Pan f'o golud a meddiannau,
  A chysuron byd yn ffoi;
Pan f'o dyfroedd oerion angau
  O fy amgylch yn crynhoi;
    Gwenau Iesu
  Ddeil i fyny f'enaid gwan.

Gwyn eu byd y rhai sy'n meirw
  Yn yr ARGLWYDD, gwyn eu byd;
Maent yn gorphwys yn y porthladd
  Fuont yn ei ddysgwyl cy'd
    Gwell yw yno,
  Deng mil gwell nā chyda ni. 

Nid oes gofid na therfysgoedd,
  Nid oes achwyn o un rhyw,
Nid oes trallod, poen na galar,
  O fewn trigfan bur fy NUW:
    Cariad perffaith
  Sydd yn llenwi'r hyfryd wlad.

gwelir:
  Arglwydd dysg im' ganu'n hyfryd
  Nid oes gofid na therfysgoedd

A multitude of my brothers are lying,
  In the grave of oblivion-land,
In the vale where they are,
  I also will be before long
    Where there is not to be heard,
  Anything of the sound of the world's griefs.

When the light and possessions,
  And comforts of the world should flee,
When the cold waters of death should
  Around me gather;
    The smiles of Jesus
  Shall hold up my weak soul.

Blessed are those who die
  In the LORD, blessed are they;
They lie in the haven
  They were awaiting so long
    Better is there,
  Ten thousand times better than with us.

There is no grief or tumult,
  There is no complaint of any kind,
There is no trouble, pain or lament,
  Within the pure dwelling of my GOD:
    Perfect love
  Is filling the delightful land.

Many dear ones are departed
  To the grave's dark silent land:
I shall soon receive the summons
  There to lie amid the band;
    Where they hear not
  Any more sad earth's complaints.








Blest are they who have expired
  In the Lord, supremely blest!
In the port so oft desired
  They for ever safely rest.
    How much better,
  There to sing than sigh with us!