Oen Duw trag'wyddol Fab y Tad

Oen Duw trag'wyddol
    Fab y Tad,
'R hwn dd'ost o'r nef i golli'th wa'd
  Dros bechaduriaid gwael eu rhyw,
  Oedd wedi myn'd dan felldith Duw.

Wyt yn tosturio wrth bob rhai,
Sy'n d'od yn flin dan deimlo eu bai;
  Dan bwys f'aneirif
      feiau mawr,
  'R wyn'n llefain Dduw, tosturia'n awr.

Cymhwysiad llawn o'th waed,
    trwy ffydd,
A wnaiff fy enaid caeth yn rhydd;
  Golwg ar dy glwyfau trist,
  A ladd fy mhechod, anwyl Grist.

Mae nghalon gâs i yn llawn o bla,
Ac ynddi yn aros 'does dim da;
  Ond rhîn dy waed, O anwyl Oen!
  All fy nglanhau a llaesu mhoen.

Mewn rhyfel blin 'rwyf nos a dydd,
A'm henaid swrth mewn dalfa sydd,
  Dan law 'ngelynion lawer pryd,
  Heb ganfod help
      o du'n y byd.

Mae'r nefoedd fry yn bres uwch ben,
Mae'n fynych rhyngof
    a'm Duw len;
  A'm holl elynion yn ddiludd,
  Yn gwaeddi, dewch, ni gawn y dydd.

Ond O! uffernol leisiau câs,
Pa bryd y tewch? pa le mae gras?
  Pa le mae'r Iesu, yr hwn a fu
  Yn meddwi gleddyf â'ch gaed chwi?

O anwyl Iesu, brysia, bydd
Yn awr fel iwrch, neu lwdn hydd;
  O tyr'd ar frys, a chluda lawr
  Fy holl elynion, fach a mawr.

gwelir:
  Dal fi fy Nuw dal fi i'r làn
  Dysg fi fy Nuw dysg fi pa fodd
  Y Gras yr hedd a'r purdeb oll
  Yn ddistaw disgwyl f'enaid prudd

The Lamb of God, the eternal
    Son of the Father,
Who camest from heaven to shed thy blood
  For sinners of a base kind,
  Who had gone under the curse of God.

Thou art showing mercy to everyone,
Who becomes weary of feeling their fault;
  Under the weight of my innumerable
      great faults,
  I am crying out, "God, have mercy now."

The full application of thy blood,
    through faith,
Shall make my captive soul free;
  A look upon thy sad wounds,
  Shall kill my sin, dear Christ.

My detestable heart is full of plague,
And in it stays no good thing;
  But the merit of thy blood, O dear Lamb,
  Can cleanse me and relieve my pain.

In war I am weary night and day,
And my soul is sullen in custody,
  Under the hand of my enemies many a time,
  Without finding any help
      on my side in the world.

Heaven above is as brass overhead,
Often there is a curtain
    between me and God;
  And all my enemies are tirelessly,
  Shouting, come, we shall gain the day.

But O, detestable hellish voices
When will ye be silent? where is grace?
  Where is Jesus, he who was
  Making a sword drunk with your blood?

O dear Jesus, hurry, be
Now like a roebuck, or a young stag;
  O come quickly, and bring down
  All my enemies, small and great.