Ar adain gwawl yr angel ddaeth

Ar adain gwawl yr Angel ddaeth
  I gyfarch Gwyryf wylaidd;
O entrych nen ehedeg wnaeth
  Ar neges wir nefolaidd.

Edrychodd Duw ar isel radd
  Y Forwyn addfwyn dduwiol;
Clodfora'r byd y fraint a gadd
  Trwy ras y Brenin nefol.

O wynfyd rhyfedd! Mair yw mam
  Y Duw ymgnawdoledig,
Sy'n gwnethur Iawn am ddynol gam -
  Yr Iesu bendigedig.

O hynod ddedwydd ddydd i ddyn!
  Disgwyliad pob cenhedlaeth
O'r nef a ddaeth; pawb yn gytûn
  Fendithia Fam dynoliaeth.

O Dduwfol Fab! holl gamre glân
  Dy wylaidd Fam glodforem;
Y digwyddiadau, fawr a mân,
  O'i buchedd a ddilynem.

Ond gorchudd daflodd arfaeth Duw
  Dros fywyd Mam tangnefedd;
Ni all na thant na thafod byw
  Byth ddatgan ei gorfoledd.

Er maint i'r
    diwrnod hwn ei swydd
  A'n cyfarch llon diffuant,
Diflanna'r Wyryf lân o'n gŵydd,
  A'i Mab yw pen ein moliant.

(The Greeting of Mary the Blessed Virgin)

On wings of radiance the angel came
  To greet the humble Virgin;
From the vault of the sky fly he did
  On a truly heavenly message.

God looked upon the lowly degree
  Of the gentle, godly Virgin;
The world shall extol the privilege she got
  Through the grace of the heavenly King.

O wonderful blessedness! Mary is the mother
  Of the incarnate God,
Who is making Atonement for human erring -
  The blessed Jesus.

O notable happy day for man!
  The expectation of every nation
From heaven that came; everyone in unity
  Shall bless the Mother of humanity.

O divine Son, all the holy steps
  Of thy humble Mother let us extol;
The events, great and small,
  Of her way of life let us follow.

But a cover flung the purpose of God
  Over the life of the Mother of peace;
Neither string nor living tongue can
  Ever declare her rejoicing.

Despite the greatness of
    this day of her role
  And our cheerful, sincere greeting,
The holy Virgin vanishes from our sight,
  And her Son is the goal of our praise.

Great Gabriel sped on wings of light,
   With wondrous tidings laden;
 He came from heaven's unclouded height
   To greet a lowly maiden.

For God upon her low estate
  Had looked with Royal favour;
And all earth's kindreds celebrate
  The mighty Gift He gave her!

Oh, awful bliss! that from her womb
  Should spring the Uncreated,
The Great and Holy One, for whom
 The world so long had waited.

A day thrice blest for man is this,
  Thou longed-for of all nations!
And men shall sing Thy Mother's bliss
  Throughout all generations!

O Son divine ! we fain would trace
  Thy Mother's steps so lowly,
Her joys and woes, her saintly grace,
  Her life so calm and holy.

But lo! as all too near we press,
  A veil the scene enfoldeth!
No tongue may sing its loveliness,
  No eye its peace beholdeth!

And as we read with
    kindling eye
  This day's all-gracious story,
The blessèd Mother passeth by,
  And Thine is all the glory!