Draw draw ar y cefnfor ar noson ddu oer

Draw, draw ar y cefnfor,
  ar noson ddu oer,
'Roedd cwch bach yn hwylio
  heb seren na lloer;
A rhuad y tonnau,
  a'r gwyntoedd, a'r gwlaw,
A lanwai fynwesau
  y morwyr o fraw.

Ond bachgen y cadben,
  yn llawen a llon,
A dd'wedai dan wenu,
  heb ddychryn i'w fron, -
"Er gwaethaf y tonnau
  awn adref yn fyw:
Pa raid ini ofni? -
  Mae Nhad wrth y Llyw."

O blentyn y nefoedd!
  Paham mae dy fron
Mor ofnus wrth weled
  gwyllt ymchwydd y donn?
Mae'r dyfnder du tywyll
  yn rhuo, gwir yw;
Ond diogel yw'th fywyd -
  Mae'th Dad wrth y Llyw.

Daw'n fuan orfoledd
  diddiwedd i'th ran;
Draw'n disgwyl mae'th geraint
  oddeutu y lan:
Y disglaer lys acw,
  dy hoff gartref yw;
Mae Canan yn ymyl,
  a'th Dad wrth y Llyw.

Cwyd bellach dy hwyliau,
  mae'r awel o'th du,
'Rwyt bron mynd i fynwes
  dy fwyn Brynwr cu;
Mae'th angor yn ddiogel,
  a'th Gadben yn fyw,
Mae'th gwch yn y porthladd,
  a'th Dad wrth y Llyw.

gwelir:
  Ar fôr tymhestlog teithio 'rwyf
  O blentyn y nefoedd paham mae dy fron?

Far, far on the high sea,
  on a black, cold night,
There was a small boat sailing
  without star or moon;
And the roar of the waves,
  and the winds, and the rain,
Were filling the breasts
  of the sailors with terror.

But the son of the captain,
  joyous and cheerful,
Would say while smiling,
  without alarm to his breast, -
"Despite the waves
  We will go home alive:
Why need we fear? -
  Father is at the Helm."

O child of the heavens!
  Why is thy breast
So fearful on seeing
  the wild surge of the wave?
The dark, black deep
  Is roaring, it is true;
But safe is thy life -
  Thy Father is at the Helm.

Soon will come endless
  joy to thy lot;
Yonder waiting are thy kin
  along the shore:
The shining court yonder,
  is thy beloved home;
Canaan is alongside,
  and thy Father at the Helm.

Raising thy sails now,
  is the breeze from thy side,
Thou art quite going to the breast
  of thy gentle, dear Redeemer;
Thy anchor is safe,
  and thy Captain is alive,
Thy boat is in the harbour,
  and thy Father is at the Helm.

Far, far on the ocean
  one cold starless night,
A small bark was sailing
  in pitiful plight:
The boom of the billows,
  as on rushed the storm,
O'ercame the stout hearts
  of the men with alarm.

But one in that lone boat
  was fearless the while, -
The captain's bright boy: �
 looking round with a smile:
"The storm threatens," he said,
  "but still do not fear,
We safely shall land,
  for my Father doth steer."

O why, child of heaven,
  is thy faithless breast,
In viewing the tempest
  with terror oppressed?
The dark depths are roaring,
  but yield not to fear,
Thy vessel is safe,
  for thy Father doth steer.

Soon, soon endless joy
  shall encompass thy brow,
Thy friends on the shore
  are awaiting thee now:
Unfurl every sail,
  see the bright morn appear,
And Canaan is nigh,
  and thy Father doth steer.

Unfurl every sail,
  for the favouring breeze
Is urging thee on
  to the haven of peace:
Thine anchor is safe -
  thou to Jesus art dear:
Thou hast entered the port -
  and thy Father doth steer.

also:

Afar on the ocean,
  one dark and cold night