Loywaf o'r sêr sydd yn brifo'r ffurfafen

Loywaf o'r ser
    sydd yn britho'r ffurfafen,
  Gwasgar ein t'wyllwch,
      a gwawried y dydd:
Seren y dwyrain,
    rhagflaenydd yr heulwen,
  Dwg ni i'r fan
       lle mae'r baban ynghudd.

Gwelwch mor isel
    ei ben yn y preseb,
  Disglair yw oerwlith
      y nos ar ei grud;
Moled angylion
    mewn llety cyn waeled
  Frenin, Creawdwr
      a Cheidwad y byd.

A dalwn ni iddo'r
    gorau o'n trysor,
  Llysiau o Edom
      yn offrwm i'n Duw,
Gemau o'r mynydd
    a pherlau o'r dyfnfor,
  Myrr o'r anialdir,
      ac aur o Beriw?

Ofer y ceisiem
    ei wen ag anrhegion,
  Ofer â golud
      y ddaear yn hael:
Gwell ganddo gywir
    addoliad y galon,
  Gwell gan yr Iesu
      yw gweddi y gwael.

Brightest of the stars
    that spangle the firmament
  Disperse our darkness,
      and may the day dawn:
Star of the east,
    herald of the sunshine,
  Bring us to the place
      where the baby is concealed.

See how lowly is
    his head in the manger,
  Shiny is the cold dew
      of the night on his cradle;
Let angels praise
    in the lodging so base
  The King, Creator
      and Saviour of the world.

Shall we pay him the
    best of our treasure,
  Herbs of Edom
      as an offering to our God,
Gems from the mountain
    and pearls from the deep sea,
  Myrrh from the desert,
      and Gold from Peru?

In vain would we seek
    his pleasure with gifts,
  In vain with the wealth
      of the earth generously:
He prefers true
    worship of the heart,
  Jesus prefers
      the prayer of the poor.

Brightest and best
    of the sons of the morning,
  Dawn on our darkness
    and lend us Thine aid;
Star of the East,
    the horizon adorning,
  Guide where our infant
      Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His cradle
    the dewdrops are shining;
  Low lies His head
      with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him
    in slumber reclining,
  Maker and Monarch
      and Saviour of all!

Say, shall we yield Him,
    in costly devotion,
  Odours of Edom
      and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain
    and pearls of the ocean,
  Myrrh from the forest,
      or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer
    each ample oblation,
  Vainly with gifts
      would His favour secure;
Richer by far
    is the heart's adoration,
  Dearer to God
      are the prayers of the poor.