Ti blennaist Arglwydd d'Eglwys lān

Ti blennaist, Arglwydd, d'Eglwys lān
  Mewn byd sy'n aflan odiaeth,
Yn winllan dyner, werdd, ac ir,
  Ynghanol crastir diffaith.

Mae'n llawn o lysiau, nid o'r byd,
  Ond planwydd Ysbryd Iesu;
Nid gwlith y byd,
    na'i wrtaith gau,
  A bair i'w llysiau dyfu.

Nid dim ond gwlith o'r nefol dir
  Rydd gynnydd i'r eginau;
Nid dim ond gwlaw o ddwyfol ddawn
  Addfeda'n llawn ei ffrwythau.

Mae'r haul yn boeth yn uchder nawn,
  Mae'r egin grawn yn crino;
A'r ffrwyth, gan wynt y ddaear ddu,
  Cyn llawn addfedu'n gwywo.

Bwrw cawodau llawn o faeth
  Ar d'etifeddiaeth, Arglwydd;
A thywallt arni nefol wlith
  Dy ras a'th fendith
      fawrlwydd.

Ā glaw gwteithio d'Ysbryd Glān
  Ireiddia winllan d'Eglwys,
Nes bod ei blodau'n aml a hardd,
  A'i ffrwyth fel
      gardd Baradwys.

Thou didst plant, Lord, thy holy Church
  In a world which is extremely unclean,
As a vineyard tender, green, and fresh,
  Amidst a parched desert land.

It is full of herbs, not of the world,
  But saplings of the Spirit of Jesus;
Not the dew of the world,
    nor its false fertilization,
  Shall cause its herbs to grow.

Nothing but dew from the heavenly land
  Shall give growth to the shoots;
Nothing but rain from a divine gift
  Shall mature fully its fruits.

The sun is hot at the height of afternoon,
  The shoots of grain are shrivelling;
And the fruit, by the black earth's wind,
  Before fully maturing is withering.

Rain thou showers full of nutrient
  Upon thy inheritance, Lord;
And pour upon it the heavenly dew
  Of thy grace and thy highly
      prosperous blessing.

With fertilizing rain may thy Holy Spirit
  Freshen the vineyard of thy Church,
Until its flowers are many and beautiful,
  And its fruit like the
      garden of Paradise.