Ar fôr tymhestlog teithio 'rwyf

Ar fôr tymhestlog teithio 'rwyf
  I fyd sydd well i fyw,
Gan wenu ar ei stormydd oll:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

Trwy leoedd geirwon, enbyd iawn,
  A rhwystrau o bob rhyw
Y'm dygwyd eisoes ar fy nhaith:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

Er cael fy nhaflu o dòn i dòn,
  Nes ofni bron cael byw,
Dihangol ydwyf hyd yn hyn:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

Ac os oes stormydd mwy yn ôl,
  Ynghadw gan fy Nuw,
Wynebaf arnynt oll yn hy:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

A phan fo'u hymchwydd yn cryfhau,
  Fy angor, sicir yw;
Dof yn ddiogel drwyddynt oll:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

I mewn i'r porthladd tawel, clyd,
  O swn y storm
    a'i chlyw
Y caf fynediad llon ryw ddydd:
  Fy Nhad sydd wrth y llyw.

gwelir:
  Draw draw ar y cefnfor
  O blentyn y nefoedd paham mae dy fron?

On a tempestuous sea I am travelling
  To a world where it is better to live,
Smiling at all its storms:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

Through rough, very dangerous places,
  And obstacles of every kind
I have been led already on my journey:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

Though I am cast from wave to wave,
  Until fear almost takes my life,
I am freed again and again:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

And if there are more storms left,
  Kept by my God,
I will face them all with boldness:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

And when their surge strengthens,
  My anchor, secure it is;
I will come safely through them all:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

Into the quiet, cosy harbour,
  From the sound of the storm
    and its earshot
I will have cheerful admittance some day:
  It is my Father who is at the helm.

On life's tempestuous sea I sail
  While bound for heaven's land,
A smile is mine though storms assail,
  The helm's in Father's hand.

I shall be safe through this rough course,
  Though evils hindering stand;
I'll trust him who through danger guides:
  The helm's in Father's hand.

Although I'm cast from wave to wave
  And fears my life demand,
Delivered am I day by day:
  The helm's in Father's hand.

Whatever storms are yet to face,
  God's pow'r, I understand,
Will make me bold to face them all:
  The helm's in Father's hand.

And at the tempests' raging height,
  Kept safe by God's command;
My anchor stable and secure:
  The helm's in Father's hand.

At last the heavenly harbour safe,
  By God's
    eternal strand;
Will welcome me from every storm:
  The helm's in Father's hand.