Ar faes y gad yr Iesu sydd

Ar faes y gad yr Iesu sydd
  Am goron ucha'r nef;
A'i faner goch yn chwifio'n rhydd,
  Pwy sy'n ei ddilyn ef?
Yr hwn a yf o'i chwerw loes,
  A'i gwpan ef mor drist,
Yr hwn sy'n tawel ddwyn y groes:
  Ef sydd yn canlyn Crist.

Y Merthyr, â'i eryraidd drem
  Yn treiddio trwy y bedd,
A fydd am byth yn ddisglair em
  Yng nghoron Twysog hedd;
Fel Iesu, yn ei olaf awr,
  Ei gri dan farwol glwy'
Oedd, "Maddau i'm gelynion mawr"
  Pwy sy'n ei dilyn, pwy?

Y Deuddeg gwrol lanwyd gynt
  Â doniau'r Ysbryd Glân;
Yn nerth eu Harglwydd ar eu hynt
  Heriasant rym y tân:
Y cleddyf dur, y llew a'i wanc,
  Nis dychrynasant hwy,
Yn ffyddlon buont hyd at dranc -
  Pwy sy'n eu dilyn, pwy?

Y Tadau yn ardderchog lu,
  Y plant yn dyrfa wiw,
Sy'n llawn gyda'u Prynwr cu,
  Mewn gwisgoedd heulog liw;
Dringasant hwy y rhiwiau serth
  I uchelderau'r nef:
O Dduw, i'w canlyn dyro nerth,
  Nes dyfod ato ef.

On the field of battle Jesus is
  For the highest crown of heaven;
And his red banner waving freely,
  Who will follow it?
The one who drinks of his bitter anguish,
  And his cup so sad,
The one who is quietly bearing the cross:
  'Tis he who is following Christ.

'Tis the martyr, with his eagle view
  Penetrating the grave,
Who shall be forever a shining gem
  In the crown of the Prince of peace;
Like Jesus, in his last hour,
  His cry under a mortal wound
Was, "Forgive for me my great enemies"
  Who is following him, who?

The heroic twelve who were cleansed of old
  With the gifts of the Holy Spirit;
In their Lord's strength on their course
  Challenged the force of the fire:
The steel sword, the lion and his lust,
  They did not horrify them,
Faithful they were unto death -
  Who is following them, who?

The fathers as a marvellous host,
  The children as a worthy throng,
Are fully with their dear Redeemer,
  In garments of a sunny colour;
They climbed the steep hills
  To the heights of heaven;
O God, to follow them grant strength,
  Until coming unto him.

The Son of God goes forth to war,
  A kingly crown to gain;
His blood red banner streams afar:
  Who follows in his train?
Who best can drink his cup of woe,
  Triumphant over pain,
Who patient bears his cross below,
  He follows in his train.

That martyr first, whose eagle eye
  Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
  And called on him to save.
Like him, with pardon on his tongue,
  In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them that did the wrong:
  Who follows in his train?

A glorious band, the chosen few
  On whom the Spirit came;
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
  And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
  The lion's gory mane;
They bowed their heads the death to feel:
  Who follows in their train?

A noble army, men and boys,
  The matron and the maid,
Around the Saviour's throne rejoice,
  In robes of light arrayed.
They climbed the steep ascent of heaven,
  Through peril, toil and pain;
O God, to us may grace be given,
  To follow in their train.