Fe'm gwnaethpwyd mor ysig golledig a llwm

Fe'm gwnaethpwyd mor ysig,
    golledig, a llwm,
Tan ddyled arwydus,
    resynus ei swm;
  Ce's Feddyg i'm clwyfau,
      ce's Feichiau di-fêth:
  Fy Arglwydd, o'i wir-fodd,
      ddarparodd bob peth.

Yn hir wrth ddrws dystryw
    yn byw, ac yn bôd,
Arhosais yn hollol
    annuwiol fy nôd,
  Gan ymladd fel gelyn,
      yn erbyn fy Nuw,
  Yr hwn sydd yn cynnal
      fy ana'l im' fyw.

Mi f'aswn mewn carchar
    anhygar cyn hyn,
Yn nghanol Gehenna,
    mewn dalfa gaeth dỳn,
  Pe gall'sai'r hên ddiafol
      gelynol ddat-gloi,
  Y ceudwll cauedig,
      o'm rhyfig, i'm rhoi.

Gan Iesu mae'r allwedd;
    ond rhyfedd y tro!
Mae hen wlâd y flamau,
    tỳn g'lymau, tan glo;
  A dyna'r holl achos,
      hawdd dangos, bob dydd,
  Fy mod yma etto
      yn rhodio'n ŵr rhŷdd.

Mae allwedd fy mywyd
    a'm hysbryd yn mhell;
Fe gollodd fy lleiddiad
    agoriad ei gell:
  Mae uffern, mae angeu,
      tan glöau mor glwm,
  Nis gallant am hyny
      mo'm drygu'n rhy drwm.

Bydd rhyfedd fy ngweled,
    er ised yr e's,
O achos y codwm
    tra gorthrwm a ge's.
  O gyrredd pob peryg',
      yn debyg i'm Duw,
  Yn nghanol y nefoedd,
      am bythoedd yn byw.

Bydd rhyfedd fy nghanfod,
    ryw ddiwrnod a ddaw,
Yn mynwes cyfiawnder,
    heb brudd-der na braw,
  Tan wenu'n ei wyneb,
      mewn purdeb, - heb ball,
  Na dyled, na dolur,
      na gwewyr, na gwall.

Wynebaf bob tywydd,
    o newydd yn awr;
Dyoddefaf bigiadau'r
    symbylau bob awr;
  Gorchfygaf elynion,
      rai chwerwon a châs,
  Ond profi digonedd
      o rinwedd dy râs.

O, f'enaid, bydd foddlon
    i'r loesion ar lawr,
Cai o'th ddarostyngiad,
    gyfodiad go fawr,
  O blith dy elynion,
      rai hyfion, o hyd,
  I fysg dy gyfeillion,
      un galon i gyd.

I was made so bruised,
    lost, and naked,
Under a horrible debt,
    of a deplorable amount;
  I got a Physician for my wounds,
      I got an unfailing Surety:
  'Twas my Lord, of his own free will,
      Who arranged everything.

For long at the door of destruction
    living, and being,
I stayed wholly
    ungodly my aim,
  Fighting light an enemy,
      against my God,
  Him who is upholding
      my breath for me to live.

I would be in an unpleasant
    prison by now,
In the centre of Gehenna,
    in a tight, captive jail,
  If the old adversarial devil
      could have unlocked,
  The closed cavern,
      from my recklessness, to put me in.

Jesus has the key;
    but the wonder of the turn!
The old land of flames
    tight bonds, under lock;
  And there is the whole cause,
      easy to see, every day,
  That I am still
      walking as a free man.

The key of my life and
    my spirit is far;
My slayer lost
    the opening of his cell,
  Hell, death, are
      under locks so fast,
  They cannot therefore
      do me any harm too heavy.

It shall be a wonder to see me,
    although so low I went,
Because of the fall
    so oppressive I got,
  From the reach of every danger,
      like my God,
  In the centre of heaven,
      forever living.

It shall be a wonder to find me,
    on some day to come,
In the bosom of righteousness,
    without sadness or terror,
  Under the smiles in his face,
      in purity, - without corruption,
  Or debt, or soreness,
      or spasms, or wrong.

I shall face every weather,
    anew now;
I shall suffer the stings
    of the goads every hour;
  I shall overcome enemies,
      those bitter and detestable,
  Only for to experience sufficiency
      from the merit of thy grace.

O, my soul, be willing
    for the griefs on earth below,
Thou shalt get from thy humbling,
    a real exaltation,
  From amongst thy enemies,
      those haughty, still,
  To the midst of thy companions,
      one heart altogether.