At(t)olwg Arglwydd gwrando

Atolwg, Arglwydd, gwrando,
  'R wy'n curo wrth dy ddôr,
Gan deimlo 'maich yn drymach
  Na thywod mân y môr:
Er cymaint yw fy llygredd,
  Mwy dy drugaredd Di;
O! crea anian fywiol,
  Anfarwol, ynof fi.

Daw dydd o brysur bwyso
  Ar grefydd cyn bo hir;
Ceir gweld pwy sydd â sylwedd,
  A phwy sydd heb a gwir:
O! Dduw, rho im adnabod
  Ar f'ysbryd ôl dy law,
Cans dyna'r nod a'r ddelw
  Arddelir ddydda ddaw.

gwelir:
  Daw dydd o brysur bwyso
  Mae anghrediniaeth beunydd

I beseech thee, Lord, listen,
  I am knocking at thy door,
Feeling my burden heavier
  Than the fine sand of the sea:
Despite how great is my corruption,
  Greater is thy mercy;
O create a lively, immortal
  Nature in me!

A day of swift reckoning is coming
  On religion before long;
It will be seen who is with substance,
  And who is without the truth:
O God, grant me to know
  Upon my soul the print of thy hand,
Since that is the mark and the image
  To be recognised on the coming day.