Yn Peniel 'rwyt fy enaid clyw

Yn Peniel 'rwyt, fy enaid clyw,
Ymdrecha'n dêg âg angel Duw;
  Pwy ŵyr na's cai
      cyn tori'r wawr,
  Wir etifeddu'r fendith fawr.

Mi âf y'mlaen er t'wylled yw,
I'r wlad 'rwy am fyn'd iddi fyw;
  Fe gwyd y wawr mae 'ddewid bur,
  O wel'd fy nghartre' cyn bo hir.

Ond boed fy nghlustiau'n gwrando o hyd,
Ddirgelion dystaw nefol fyd;
  A'm pleser unig ddydd a nos,
  Yn nyfnion wironeddau'r groes.

Pan gaffwyf wel'd dy nefol wedd,
A phrofi blas dy ddwyfol hedd;
  Rwy'n gwel'd
      gogoniant mwya'r byd,
  Fel peth annheilwng o fy mryd.

              - - - - -

Yn Peniel 'rwyt, fy enaid clyw,
Ymdrecha'n dêg âg angel Duw;
  Pwy ŵyr na chei
      cyn tori'r wawr,
  Wir etifeddu'r fendith fawr?

O flaen y drugareddfa fawr,
Bron trengu yn y llwch yn awr;
  Gwel y pechadur duaf gaed,
  A'i lef am brawf
     o rin y gwaed.

Mae gras yn rhyw anfeidrol stôr,
A doniau genyt fel y môr;
  O gâd i'r truenusaf fyw,
  Trwy haeddiant Crist
      fy Iôr a'm Duw.

gwelir:
  O boed fy nghlustiau'n gwrando o hyd
  Pan caffwyf wel'd y nefol wledd
  'R wyf yma Arglwydd wrth Dy draed

In Peniel thou art, my soul hear,
Struggle fairly with the angel of God;
  Who knows whether thou wilt get
      before the dawn breaks,
  Truly to inherit the great blessing.

I will go forward despite how dark it is,
To the land I want to go to live in;
  The dawn shall rise is the pure promise,
  O to see my home before long.

But let my ears be listening always,
To the silent secrets of a heavenly world;
  And my only pleasure day and night,
  In the depths of the truths of the cross.

When I get to see thy heavenly face,
And experience a taste of thy divine peace;
  I am seeing
      the greatest glory of the world,
  As something unworthy of my attention.

                 - - - - -

In Peniel thou art, my soul hear,
Struggle fairly with the angel of God;
  Who knows whether thou wilt get
      before the dawn breaks,
  Truly to inherit the great blessing?

Before the great mercy-seat,
Almost expiring in the dust now;
  See the black sinner ever there was,
  And his cry for an experience
      of the virtue of the blood.

There is grace in some immeasurable store,
And gifts from thee like the sea;
  O let the most wretched one alive,
  Through the merit of Christ
      my Lord and my God.