Gwna fi fel pren planedig O fy Nuw

Gwna fi fel pren
    planedig, O! fy Nuw,
Yn îr ar lan
    afonydd dyfroedd byw,
  Yn gwreiddio ar led,
      a'i ddail heb wywo mwy,
  Ond ffrwytho dan
      gawodydd dwyfol glwy'.

Gwlad dda, heb wae,
    gwlad wedi ei rhoi dan sêl,
Llifeirio mae,
    a'i ffrwyth o laeth a mêl;
  Grawnsypiau gwiw
      i'r anial dir sy'n dod;
  Gwlad nefol yw,
      uwchlaw mynegi ei chlod.

Jehofa yw,
    yn un â'i Enw pur,
Cyflawnwr gwiw
    ei addewidion gwir;
  Mae'n codi ei law,
      cenhedloedd ddaw i maes,
  Nodedig braw'
      o'i rydd anfeidrol ras.

Cenhadon hedd,
    mewn efengylaidd iaith,
Sy'n galw i'r wledd
    dros fôr yr India faith;
  Caiff Hotentots,
      Goraniaid dua' eu lliw,
  Farbaraidd lu,
      eu dwyn i deulu Duw.

Gad imi fyw,
   ynghanol pob rhyw bla,
Dan gysgod clyd
   adenydd Iesu da;
  A'm tegwch gwir
      fel olewydden wiw
  O blaniad teg
      daionus Ysbryd Duw.

Ac yna caf
    mewn haf dragwyddol ddydd,
Y palmwydd teg
    a'r goron ddysglaer sydd
  Yng nghadw gan
      yr Iesu pur i'w saint,
  Mewn dedwydd fyd -
      O nefol hyfryd fraint.

gwelir:
  Cenadon hedd mewn efengylaidd iaith
  Cyfammod rhad i gyd o drefniad Duw
  Doed mawr a bach o îs a gwaelach ryw
  Mae eglwys Dduw trwy'r ddae'r a'r nef yn un
  Iehovah yw yn un â'i enw pur
  O gad im' fod yn nghanol trallod trist

Make me like a tree
    planted, O my God,
Freshly by the side,
    of rivers of living water;
  Rooting widely,
      and its leaves with no more withering,
  Bearing fruit under
      showers of a heavenly wound.

A good land, without woe,
    a land given under a seal,
Gushing it is,
    and its fruit of milk and honey;
  Worthy grape-clusters
      which are coming to the desert land.
  A heavenly land it is,
      above expression of its praise.

Jehovah is,
    one with his pure Name,
A worthy fulfiller
    of his true promises;
  He raises his hand,
      nations come forth,
  A distinctive experience
      of his free, immeasurable grace.

Messengers of peace,
    in evangelistic language,
Which call to the feast,
    across the vast sea of India;
  Hottentots,
      Coranians of blackest colour,
  A barbarian host,
      may get brought to the family of God.

Let me live
    amidst every kind of plague,
Under the cosy shade
    of the wings of good Jesus;
  And my worthy fairness
      like a worthy olive tree,
  From the fair planting
      of God's good Spirit.

And there I shall have
    in the summer of eternal day,
The fair palm
    and the shining crown which is
  Kept by
      pure Jesus for his saints,
  In a happy world -
      Oh delightful, heavenly privilege!

God, make me like
    a tree well planted grow