Dacw'r ffynnon i'w dymuno

Dacw'r ffynnon i'w dymuno,
  Fywiol sy'n
      yr anial dir;
Dacw'r unig ddŵr sy'n rhoddi
  Hedd ac anfarwoldeb clir:
    Ar Galfaria
  Tardd yr afon loyw i maes.

Yno'r af i 'mofyn pleser -
  Unig bleser i barhau;
Yno caf fi lawn faddeuant
  Am bob trosedd,
      a phob bai;
    Yno'n unig
Caf g'wilyddio o honof f'hun.

Iachawdwriaeth rad ei hunan
  Yw fy mhlê o flaen y nef;
A ffarwel am danaf fythol
  Oni chaf ei haeddiant ef:
    Iesu ei hunan,
  Oll o flaen y faingc i mi.

              - - - - -

Dacw'r ffynnon i'w dymuno,
  Fywiol sy'n
      yr anial dir;
Dacw'r unig ddwfr sy'n rhoddi
  Hedd ac anfarwoldeb clir:
    Ar Galfaria
  Tardd yr afon loyw i maes.

Dyma'r euog, ofnus, aflan,
  Eto'n chwenych bod yn wyn,
Yn yr afon gymysg liwiau,
  Darddodd allan ar y bryn:
    Balm o Gilead,
  Anngydmarol yw dy waed.

Golchi'r ddu gydwybod aflan
  Lawer gwynnach eira mân;
Gwneud y brwnt, gan' waith ddifwynodd
  Yn y domen, fel y gwlân:
    Pwy all fesur
  Lled a dyfnder maith ei ras?

Minau ddof i'r ffynon loyw
  Darddodd allan ar y bryn,
Ac mi olcha'm henaid euog
  Ganwaith yn y dyfroedd hyn;
    Myrdd o feiau,
  Daflaf lawr
      yn ngrym y dwr.

gwelir:
  Darfu noddfa mewn creadur
  Mae fy meiau fel mynyddoedd
  Y mae rhinwedd gras y nefoedd

Yonder is the lively spring
  To be desired, which is in
      the desert land;
Yonder is the only water which is giving
  Peace and clear immortality:
    On Calvary
  Springs the shining river out.

There I will go to ask for pleasure -
  The only pleasure to endure;
There I will get full forgiveness
  For every transgression,
      and every fault;
    There alone
  May I become ashamed of myself.

Free salvation itself
  Is my plea before heaven;
And farewell for me forever
  Unless I get his merit:
    Jesus himself,
  All before the throne for me.

                - - - - -

Yonder is the lively spring
  To be desired, which is in
      the desert land;
Yonder is the only water which is giving
  Peace and clear immortality:
    On Calvary
  Springs the shining river out.

Here is the guilty, fearful, unclean,
  Still longing to be white,
In the river of a mixture of colours,
  Which issued out on the hill:
    The balm of Gilead,
  Incomparable is thy blood.

Washing the unclean, black conscience
  Much whiter than fine snow;
Making the filthy, a hundred times defiled
  In the dung-heap, like the wool:
    Who can measure
  The vast breadth and depth of his grace?

I too shall come to the bright spring
  Which issued out on the hill,
And I will wash my guilty soul
  A hundred times in these waters;
    A myriad of faults,
  I will fling down
      in the force of the water.