Y cof o'th ras mor felus fydd,
  Fy Nuw, a'm Llywydd nefol:
Datganed oes wrth oes yn ber
  Dy bur gyfiawnder dwyfol.

Er bod Duw fry, ni cheidw ef
  Ei dda i'r nef yn unig:
I dlodion byd haelionus yw,
  Fe leinw pob rhyw ddiffyg.

Gan Dduw y mae'r cre'duriaid gwael
  Yn dysgwyl cael eu porthi:
Dy law ddarpara iddynt fwyd,
  A'u genau wyd yn lenwi.

Mor fwyn yw'th dosturiaethau, Naf,
  A'th lid mor araf gyffry;
Pob cysur pur anfoni'n glau
  I'r rhai sydd am dy garu.

             - - - - -

Cof o dy ras yn felus fydd,
  Fy Nuw, fy llywydd nefol;
Dadganed oes wrth oes yn bêr,
  Dy bur gyfiawnder dwyfol.

Er bod Duw fry, ni ettyl Ef
  Mo'i dda i'r nef yn unig;
I bawb o'r byd haelionus yw;
  Fe leinw bob rhyw ddiffyg.

Duw, wrthyt mae cre'duriaid gwael
  Yn dysgwyl cael eu porthi:
Dy law ddarpara iddynt fwyd,
  A'u genau wyd yn lenwi.

Mor fwyn yw'th dosturiaethau, Nâf,
  A'th lid mor araf cyffry!
Ond gair o gysur ỳr yn glau
  I'r enaid mae E'n garu.

The memory of thy grace how sweet it is,
  My God, and my heavenly Governor:
Let age to age declare sweetly
  Thy pure, divine righteousness.

Although God is above, he does not keep
  His good for heaven alone:
To the poor of the world generous he is,
  He fills every kind of deficiency.

From God the poor creatures are
  Expecting to get pastured:
Thy hand prepares for them food,
  And their mouths thou art filling.

How tender are thy mercies, Master,
  And thy anger how slowly it will be aroused;
Every pure comfort thou sendest quickly
  To those who want to love thee.

                  - - - - -

The memory of thy grace is sweet,
  My God, my heavenly Governor;
Let age to age declare sweetly
  Thy pure, divine righteousness.

Although God is above, He will not stop
  His good for heaven alone;
To everyone of the world generous he is;
  He fills every kind of deficiency.

God, from thee is every poor creature
  Waiting to get pastured:
Thy hand prepares for them food,
  And their mouths thou art filling.

Ho tender are thy mercies, Master,
  And thy anger how slow to be aroused!
But a word of comfort will drive quickly
  To the soul who is loving Him.

Sweet is the memory of Thy grace,
  My God, my heav'nly king;
Let age to age Thy righteousness
  In sounds of glory sing.

God reigns on high, but not confines
  His goodness to the skies;
Through the whole earth His bounty shines,
  And every want supplies.

With longing eyes Thy creatures wait
  On Thee for daily food;
Thy liberal hand provides their meat,
  And fills their mouths with good.

How kind are Thy compassions, Lord!
  How slow Thine anger moves!
But soon He sends His pardoning word
  To cheer the souls He loves.

               - - - - -

Sweet is the memory of Thy grace,
  My God, my heav'nly king;
Let age to age Thy righteousness
  In sounds of glory sing.

God reigns on high, but not confines
  His goodness to the skies;
Through the whole earth His bounty shines,
  And every want supplies.

With longing eyes Thy creatures wait
  On Thee for daily food;
Thy liberal hand provides their meat,
  And fills their mouths with good.

How kind are Thy compassions, Lord!
  How slow Thine anger moves!
But soon He sends His pardoning word
  To cheer the souls He loves.