Clyw clyw y gân angylaidd gân yn chwyddo

Clyw, clyw! y gân,
        angylaidd gân yn chwyddo,
  Dros bedwar ban
          y byd o fôr i fôr;
Mae seiniau'r anthem
        nefol yn prophwydo
  Y daw y byd
          yn eiddo'n Harglwydd Iôr.

    Cenwch y'mlaen
            angelion nef y nefoedd,
      Cenwch ganiadau'ch
              genedigol wlad;
    Cenwch y'mlaen
            nes delom o'r dyfnderoedd
      I uno yn y canu
              a'r mwynhad.

Draw, draw y'mhell,
        fel seiniau clychau hyfryd,
  Mae enw'r Iesu'n
          cerdded dros y byd;
Mae'r llwythog a
        blinderog drwy yr holl-fyd
  Yn hoffi clywed swn
          ei enw i gyd.

Awn, awn, y'mlaen
        y mae y gân yn galw,
  "Flinderog, llwythog,
          deuwch ataf fi;"
A myrdd yn ateb
        y gwahoddiad hwnw,
  Yr y'm yn dyfod
          Arglwydd, wele ni.

Hear, hear thou the song,
        an angelic song swelling,
  Across the four corners
          across the world from sea to sea;
The sounds of the heaven anthem
        are prophesying
  That the world shall become
          our Sovereign Lord's.

    Sing on ye angels
            of the heaven of heaven,
      Sing the songs of your
              native land;
    Sing ye on
            until we come from the depths
      To join in the singing
              and the enjoyment.

Yonder, yonder afar,
        like the sound of delightful bells,
  The name of Jesus is
          walking across the world;
The burdened and
        weary throughout the whole world
  Are all fond of hearing
          the sound of his name.

Let us go, let us go, onward
        the song is calling,
  "Ye weary, ye burdened,
          come unto me;"
And a myriad answering
        that invitation,
  "We are coming
          Lord, see us."

Hark hark my soul
        angelic songs are swelling
  O'er earth's green fields
          and ocean's wave-beat shore:
How sweet the truth
        those blessèd strains are telling
  Of that new life
          when sin shall be no more.

    Angels sing on!
            your faithful watches keeping;
      Sing us sweet fragments
              of the songs above,
    Till morning's joy
            shall end the night of weeping,
      And life's long shadows break
              in cloudless love.

Far, far away,
        like bells at evening pealing,
  The voice of Jesus
          sounds o'er land and sea;
And laden souls,
        by thousands meekly stealing,
  Kind Shepherd, turn
          their weary steps to thee.

Onward we go,
        for still we hear them singing,
  "Come, weary souls,
          for Jesus bids you come";
And through the dark,
        its echoes sweetly ringing,
  The music of the gospel
          leads us home.