O Fab y Dyn Eneiniog Duw fy Mrawd

O Fab y Dyn, Eneiniog Duw, fy Mrawd
    A'm Ceidwad cry',
Ymlaen y cerddaist dan
        y groes a'r gwawd
    Heb neb o'th du;
Cans llosgi wnaeth
        dy gariad pur bob cam,
Ni allodd angau'i hun
        ddiffoddi'r fflam.

Cyrhaeddaist ddiben 
        dy anturiaeth ddrud
    Drwy boenau mawr;
A gwelais di dan faich gofidiau'r byd
    Yn gwyro i lawr,
Ac yn dy ochain dwys
        a'th ddrylliog lef
Yn galw'r afradloniaid
        tua thref.

Rho imi'r weledigaeth
        fawr a'm try
    O'm crwydro ffôl
I'th ddilyn hyd y
        llwybrau dyrys, dua
    Heb syllu'n ôl;
A moes dy law i mi'r
        eiddilaf un,
Ac arwain fi i mewn
        i'th fyd dy hun.

Tydi yw'r ffordd, a mwy
        na'r ffordd i mi,
    Tydi yw 'ngrym:
Pa les ymdrechu,
        f'Arglwydd, hebot ti,
    A minnau'n ddim?
O rymus Un, na
        wybu lwfywrhau,
Dy nerth a'm ceidw
        innau heb lesgáu.

O Son of God, God's Anointed, my Brother
    And my strong Saviour,
Onward thou didst walk under
        the cross and the mocking
    With no-one on thy side;
Since burn did thy pure
        love every step,
Death itself could not
        extinguish the flame.

Thou didst reach the aim
        of thy costly venture
    Through great pains;
And I saw thee under the world's griefs
    Being bowed down,
And in thy intense groan
        and thy shattered cry
Calling the prodigals
        toward home.

Give me the great vision
        that will turn me
    From my foolish wandering
To follow thee along the
        troublesome, black paths
    Without gazing behind;
And offer thy hand to me
        the most feeble one,
And lead me into
    thy own world.

Thou art the way, and more
        than the way to me,
    Thou art my power:
What is the benefit of striving,
        my Lord, without thee,
    And I nothing?
O powerful One, who knows
        no losing of heart,
Thy strength shall keep me
        from growing weak.

O Son of Man, Christ, God's anointed One,
    My Saviour strong;
Forsaken, thou didst bear
        the cross alone,
    Mocked by the throng:
Yet thy pure love burned through
        the death of shame,
Its bitter suff'ring could
        not quench the flame.

Thou didst achieve thy goal,
        though oft repelled,
    Through woes unknown;
Burdened with mankind's sorrows, I beheld
    Thee sinking down,
And in thy broken cries
        from out the gloom
I heard thee calling thy
        wand'ring brethren home.

Grant the great vision that
        would make me spurn
    My foolish ways,
To follow thee o'er the
        dark paths, and turn
    No backward gaze:
Thy hand give me, the weakest,
        who hath erred,
And lead me into thine own
        world, dear Lord.

Thou art the way, yea more,
        thou art to me
    The power I've sought;
What good, Lord, is my
         struggling without thee
    When I am nought?
O mighty One, whose courage
        ne'er did fail,
Filled with thy strength,
        I also shall prevail.