Angylion pur sy o gylch ei orsedd

Angylion pur sy o gylch ei orsedd
  Yn gwisgo g'leuni fel y wawr,
Yr Hwn a'ch gwisgoedd â'r fath harddwch,
  Ac 'ych yn ei addoli'n awr,
Cig a gwaed a gym'rodd arno,
  Fel gallai gydymdeimlo â ni,
Er mai gwrthrych eich addoliad
  A fu farw ar Galfari.

Ti, haul, y ffynon fawr ddihysbydd
  O'leuni, cysur, gwres, a thân,
Sy'n danfon dydd oddeutu'r ddaear
  Bywyd myrdd o lysiau mân;
'R Hwn a'th lanwodd o oleuni,
  Na ellir edrych ar dy wedd
Ymddihatrodd o'i ogoniant,
  Gorwedd wnaeth yn ngwaelod bedd.

Y lloer, yn mhlith y ser,
    sy'n rhodio,
  Yn g'leuo mwy na hwynt i gyd,
Y môr sy'n teithio wrth dy amser,
  Ti gyddi'th wyneb ambell bryd;
'R Hwn rodd d'oleu oddiwrth yr haulwen,
  Ei lewyrch o hono ei Hun y sy;
Clips a redodd tros ei harddwch
  Pan fu farw ar Galfari.

gwelir: Iesu ydyw fy Nghreawdwr

Pure angels who are around his throne
  Wearing light like the dawn,
He who clothed you with such beauty,
  And whom ye are adoring now,
Flesh and blood he took upon himself
  So that he could sympathise with us,
Although being the object of your adoration
  Who died on Calvary.

Thou, sun, the great unpublished fount
  Of light, comfort, warmth, and fire,
Who sendest day around the earth
  The life of a myriad of small herbs;
He who filled thee with light,
  That thy face is not to be looked upon
Divested himself of his glory,
  Lie he did in the bottom of a grave.

The moon, amongst the stars,
    which is moving,
  In light more than all of them,
The sea which is travelling by thy time,
  Thou hidest thy face occasionally;
He who gave thy light from the sunshine,
  His radiance is from Himself;
An eclipse ran across his beauty
  When he died on Calvary.

Lofty Angels! God-like spirits,
  Clad in robes of 'living light':
He who gave you all your glories,
  Him you worship day and night,
Made his tent in human nature
  That in Him should man confide:
Your Delight, your Source, and Centre
  Died - for man a Ransom died.

Sun! the unexhausted fountain,
  Whence flow warmth and genial light,
By whom Day to us is given
  Loaded with untold delight!
He who hath with glory charged thee
  That we may not rudely gaze,
Was on Calvary obscured -
  Well thou dark'nedst with amaze.

Moon! who star-attended
    glidest
  Through the sky with queenly grace;
Shining now in placid splendour,
  Veiling now with clouds thy face:
He who hides thee - brings light to thee
  From that sun, whose Sun is He,
Was eclipsed, - his beams were clouded,
  On the ignominious tree.