Y Manna pur y golofn dān

Y Manna pur, y golofn dān,
Yr Arch, a'r drugareddfa lān;
  Y dŵr o'r graig,
      i'w gael bob pryd,
  Fy Iesu ydyw'r rhai'n i gyd.

Yr wyf am ffoi i'r noddfa glyd,
Sydd uwchlaw uffern fawr a'r byd;
  Tan gysgod y Cyfamod rhad,
  A seliwyd gynt a dwyfol waed.

Fel pan fo terfysg, cur, a gwae,
A stormydd blinion yn cryfhau,
  Caiff f'enaid lechu uwchlaw poen,
  Yn mynwes bur yr addfwyn Oen.

Wel, dyma'r lloches dawel iawn
Gaiff fod fy noddfa
    fore a nawn,
  Heb un difyrwch īs y ne',
  Ond caru ac edrych arno Fe.

gwelir:
  Mae rhyfeddodau rīf y dail
  Y moroedd mawr a'r ddaear faith

The pure manna, the pillar of fire,
The Ark, and the holy mercy-seat;
  The water from the rock,
      to be got every time,
  My Jesus is all those.

I am fleeing to the secure sanctuary,
Which is above great hell and the world;
  Under the shadow of the gracious Covenant,
  Which was sealed of old with divine blood.

Thus when there be tumult, blow, and woe,
And grievous storms strengthening,
  My soul will get to hide above pain,
  In the pure bosom of the gentle Lamb.

See, here is the very quiet refuge
Which gets to be my sanctuary
    morning and afternoon,
  Without any comfort under heaven,
  But loving and looking upon Him.

The fiery cloud, the manna given,
The ark, the mercy-seat from heaven,
  The waters from the rock
      that fall,
  These speak to me of Jesus, all.

Oh, I would to this refuge fly,
Above the world and hell so high;
  Beneath the covenanted word,
  Oh, take and seal me with thy blood!

So when tumult, and pain, and woe,
And wildest tempest come and go,
  My soul can hide from deluge wild,
  In this my refuge safe and mild.

This is a shelter calm and pure,
Oh, make to me
    this refuge sure;
  Not one joy on this earthly ball,
  Give to me without Christ in all.