Dywedwch i mi'r hanes

Dywedwch i mi'r hanes,
  Am fawrion bethau'r nef,
Am Iesu a'i ogoniant,
  A'i ryfedd gariad ef;
Dywedwch i mi'n eglur
  Yr hanes bob yn rhan,
'Rwy'n eiddil a blinedig,
  'Rwy'n euog ac yn wan.

    D'wedwch yr hen, hen hanes,
      Fe'm cyfyd ar fy nhraed;
    O d'wedwch yr hen, hen hanes,
      Am Iesu a'i werthfawr waed.

Dywedwch i mi'n araf
  Fel gallwyf wel'd yn glir
Ffordd Duw i gadw'r euog,
  A gwneyd y brwnt yn bur;
Dywedwch i mi'n fynych,
  Fel gallwyf gofio'n llawn,
Diflana gwlith y bore
  Cyn delo y prydnawn.

Dwedwch i mi'r hanes,
  Pan fyddo blodau'r byd,
A'i weigion fân deganau
  Yn bwgwth dwyn fy mryd;
Pan fyddo gwawr gogoniant
  Yn tori ar f'enaid gwan,
Dywedwch i mi'r hanes -
  "Yr Iesu yw dy ran."

Tell me the story,
  About the great things of heaven,
About Jesus and his glory,
  And his wonderful love;
Tell me clearly
  The story part by part,
I am feeble and weary,
  I am guilty and weak.

    Tell the old, old story,
      It will raise me to my feet;
    O tell the old, old story,
      About Jesus and his precious blood.

Tell to me slowly
  That I may see clearly
A way for god to save the guilty,
  And make the filthy pure;
Tell to me often,
  That I may remember fully,
The dew of morning disappears
  Before the afternoon comes.

Tell to me the story
  When the flowers of the world be,
With their empty little trinkets
  Threatening to steal my intention;
When the dawn of glory shall be
  Breaking on my weak soul,
Tell to me the story -
  "Jesus is thy portion."

Tell me the old, old story
  Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
  Of Jesus and His love.
Tell me the story simply,
  As to a little child,
For I am weak and weary,
  And helpless and defiled.

    Tell me the old, old story,
    Tell me the old, old story,
    Tell me the old, old story,
      Of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the story slowly,
  That I may take it in,
That wonderful redemption,
  God's remedy for sin.
Tell me the story often,
  For I forget so soon;
The early dew of morning
  Has passed away at noon.

Tell me the same old story
  When you have cause to fear
That this world's empty glory
  Is costing me too dear.
Yes, and when that world’s glory
  Is dawning on my soul,
Tell me the old, old story:
  "Christ Jesus makes thee whole."