Dringaf fyny i'r Olewydd

Dringaf fyny i'r Olewydd,
  I gael gweled maint fy mai;
Nid oes arall, is yr wybren,
  Fan i'w weled fel y mae:
    Annwyl f'enaid
  Yno'n chwysu dafnau gwaed.

Pechod greodd ynddo'r poenau,
  Pechod roddodd arno'r pwn,
Pechod barodd iddo ochain,
  F'unig haeddiant i oedd hwn;
    O! na welwn
  Fore fyth na
        phecwn mwy.

I shall climb up to the Olive trees,
  I get to see the extent of my fault;
There is no other, under the sky,
  Place to see him as he is:
    The Beloved of my soul
  There sweating drops of blood.

'Twas sin that created in him the pains,
  'Twas sin that put upon him the load,
'Twas sin that caused him to groan,
  My only merit was he;
    O that I may see
  A morning when I would
        never sin any more.

Who would know sin, let him repair
  To Calvary: there shall he see
A man so pained, that all his hair,
  His skin, His garments bloody be!
Sin is that rack, which forces pain
  To hunt its food through every vein.

Wouldst thou know love? behold the God,
  The Man, who for thy ransom died:
Go taste the sacred fount that flowed
  Fast-streaming from His wounded side!
Love is that liquor most divine,
  God feels as blood,
      but I as wine.

from:
Vain man has measured land and sea