Yr Aberth a laddwyd drwy/trwy frad

Yr aberth a
    laddwyd drwy frâd
  Ar gopa Calfaria brydnawn,
Wnaeth gymod,
    boddlonodd y Tad;
  A Hwn a osododd yn Iawn.
Trag'wyddol annhraethol ei werth,
  Ei urddas yw'r Duwdod ei hun;
Nid gormod cael
    eithaf pob nerth
  I'w ganmawl mewn caniad gyttun.

Sancteiddier holl
    foroedd y byd,
  Eu cynhwrf, a'u rhüad didawl;
Gan daflu i'w glanau o hyd,
  O'u heigion, wir dònau o fawl;
I ddafnau eu dyfroedd ar frys
  Rhoer genau,
    synwyrau, a dawn,
I ddatgan cerdd beraidd ddilys
  Am urddas anfeidrol yr Iawn.

O deffro, fy enaid, mae'n bryd,
  Ymnertha, anghofia dy boen;
Doed nerthoedd yr
    eglwys trwy'r byd
  Ar egni i foli yr Oen:
Mae hyn yn rhy fychan i'r gwaith,
  Rhy fychan o allu a dawn;
Rhy fychan yw geiriau pob iaith
  I draethu teilyngdod yr Iawn.

Boed lluoedd y bydoedd i gyd
  Yn glychau o aur yn eu maint,
I weini 'ngŵyl
    cymmod y byd
  Wrth odreu Offeiriad y saint:
A chanant â'u nerthoedd yn llawn,
  Gwnaed cymmod trag'wyddol â Duw;
Er marw i wneuthur yr Iawn,
  Mae'n Haaron ni eto yn fyw.

Cydganed holl nerthoedd pob byd,
  I roddi i'r Prynwr ei hawl,
Nes llanwo eu hadsain o hyd
  Y gwagle trag'wyddol â mawl:
A'r gwagle 'n un môr o'u mawl fo,
  A'i donau chwyddedig yn fyw
Ad-luchio i
    olchi'n eu tro,
  Holl lanau
      cre'digaeth ein Duw.

Bechadur, ai tewi'r wyt ti
  Am sylfaen dy fywyd dy hun?
A'r engyl, am Iawn drosom ni,
  Yn canu'n egniol bob un!
Er cymaint mae'r engyl difai
  Yn synu at angau mor ddrud,
Nid ydyw eu syndod fawr lai
  At ddyn sydd yn aros yn fud.

O deffro, i ganmawl yr Oen;
  Pwy all fod mewn dyled mor fawr?
A chân nes anghofio dy boen;
  Nac oeda, ond dechreu yn awr.
Mae moliant llu'r
    nef yn rhy wan
  I ateb i gariad Duw Iôr;
Dod gymhorth, a chana dy ran,
  Chwanega at allu y côr.

Wrth ganu, dywedyd maent hwy,
  'Mae Iesu'n rhyfeddod i ni;'
Ond dyn sydd mewn modd i dd'weyd mwy,
  'Mae Iesu yn fywyd i mi:'
Hwy synant at Iesu ar bren,
  Ond drosot ti
      deuai i'r gwawd;
Hwy allant dd'weyd, 'Dyma ein Pen!'
  Ond gelli di dd'wedyd, 'Fy Mrawd!'

gwelir: O gariad O gariad mor rad

The sacrifice which
    was slain through betrayal
  On the summit of Calvary one afternoon,
Wrought reconciliation,
    satisfied the Father;
  And Him who gave him as a Ransom.
Eternally inexpressible his worth,
  His dignity is the Trinity itself;
It is not too much to get
    the utmost of every strength
  To praise him in song in agreement.

To be sanctified are all
    the seas of the world,
  Their tumult, and their unceasing roar;
While flinging to their shores always,
  From their ocean, true waves of praise;
To drops their waters hurriedly
  To be given are a mouth,
    senses, and talent,
To express the sweet, unfailing poetry
  About the infinite dignity of the Ransom.

O awake, my soul, it is time,
  Take strength, forget thy pain;
May the strengths of the church
    throughout the world be
  striving to praise the Lamb:
This is too small for the work,
  To small of ability and talent;
To small are the words of every language
  To expound the worthiness of the Ransom.

Let all the hosts of the worlds be
  Circles of gold in their greatness,
To serve in the festival of
    the reconciliation of the world
  On the hem of the Priest of the saints:
And they will sing with their powers full,
  To make eternal reconciliation with God;
Despite dying to make the Ransom,
  Our Aaron is yet alive.

Let all the powers of every world chorus,
  To give to the Redeemer his right,
Until their echo always fill
  The eternal space with praise:
And the space be one sea of his praise,
  And the swollen waves alive
Flinging back and forth to
    wash in their turn,
  All the shores
      of the creation of our God.

Sinner, art thou holding thy silence
  About the foundation of thy own life?
And the angels, about a Ransom for us,
  Singing vigorously every one!
Despite how great are the faultless angels
  Astonished at a death so costly,
Their great surprise is not much less
  At a man who stays mute.

O awake, to praise the Lamb;
  Who can be in such a great debt?
And sing until forgetting thy pain;
  Do not delay, but begin now.
The praise of the host of
    heaven is too weak
  To answer the love of the Lord God;
Come to help, and sing thy part,
  Augment the ability of the choir.

While singing, saying are they,
  'That Jesus is a wonder to us;'
But man is in a means to say more,
  'That Jesus is life to me:'
They wonder at Jesus on a tree,
  But for thee he would come
      to the mockery;
They can say, 'Behold our Head!'
  But thou canst say, 'My Brother!'

The Sacrifice wickedly slain