Fy Nuw fy Nghyfaill nefol i

Fy Nuw, fy Nghyfaill nefol i,
  Rhois arnat ti fy ngoglud:
Rhag dynion s' am fy ngwaed yn gwau,
  Tyr'd, cadw'n glau fy mywyd.

Mewn llid a balchder maent, heb baid,
  Yn llarpio f'enaid beunydd:
Fel llewod dig a rwygai'r prae,
  Y pryd na bae gwaredydd.

Os darfa mi gyffroi erioed
  Fy ngelyn, doed i'm dala:
A sathred f'einioes yn y llwch,
  Trwy'r diystyrwch eitha'.

A phe bai falais ynof fî,
  Mae'th lygaid di yn canfod:
Byth nid appeliwn i mor hy
  At Dduw ag sy'n f'adnabod.

Duw, cyfod, dyrcha'th law yn serth,
  Rheola'n nerth a'u balchder;
A deffro i farn, i'm henaid dod
  Ollyngdod o'i gyfyngder.

             GORPHWYSIAD

Caiff pechaduriald â'u broch mawr
  Eu gostwng lawr i'r egion;
A Duw'r gwirionedd yn ddi-os
  Ymddiffyn achos cyfion.

Duw sy'n adnabod calon dyn,
  Ymddiffyn gyfion cywir:
Mae fwa ef mewn annel dyn,
  Yn erbyn yr erlidwyr.

Cloddiasant bwll i mi'n eu gwyn,
  I'r cyfryw un tramgwydden':
Gwnaeth Duw i'w drygau hwynt a'u tra
  Droi ar eu coppa'u hunain.

Yr holl erlidwyr gwaedlyd hyf,
  Cânt deimlo'i gleddyf 'sgeler:
Fy enaid, deffro, mola'n awr,
  Ras Duw a'i fawr gyfiawnder.

My God, my heavenly Friend,
  I put upon thee my dependence:
Against men that want my blood falsely,
  Come, keep quickly my life.

In wrath and pride they are, unceasingly,
  Rending my soul daily:
Like angry lions that would tear the prey,
  Whenever there be no deliverer.

If I happen to provoke ever
  My enemy, let him come to catch me:
And trample my lifespan in the dust,
  Through the utmost disregard.

And if there were any malice in me,
  Thy eyes would find it:
I would never appeal so boldly
  To God who knows me.

God, arise, lift up thy hand suddenly,
  Control their strength and their pride;
And awake to judgment, to my soul give
  Deliverance from its straits.

                   PAUSE

Sinners, with their great rage, shall get
  Brought down to the ocean;
And the God of truth undoubtedly
  Shall defend the cause of the righteous.

'Tis God who knows the heart of man,
  The defence of the truly righteous:
His bow is aimed at man,
  Against the persecutor.

They dug a pit for me in their passion,
  To such a one they would offend:
God made their evils and their violence
  Turn upon their own heads.

All the bold, bloody persecutors,
  They shall feel his ravenous sword:
My soul, awake, praise now,
  God's grace, and his great righteousness.

My trust is in my heavenly friend,
 My hope in thee, my God;
Rise, and my helpless life defend
 From those that seek my blood.

With insolence and fury they
  My soul in pieces tear,
As hungry hons rend the prey,
  When no deliverer's near.

If I had e'er provok'd them first,
  Or once abus'd my foe,
Then let him tread my life to dust,
  And lay mine honour low.

If there be malice hid in me,
  I know thy piercing eyes;
I should not dare appeal to thee,
  Nor ask my God to rise.

Arise, my God, lift up thy hand,
  Their pride and power controul;
Awake to judgment, and command
  Deliverance for my soul.

                 PAUSE

Let sinners and their wicked rage
  Be humbled to the dust;
Shall not the God of truth engage
  To vindicate the just?

He knows the heart, he tries the reins,
  He will defend th' upright;
His sharpest arrows he ordains
  Against the sons of spite.

For me their malice digg'd a pit,
  But there themselves are cast;
My God makes all their mischief light
  On their own heads at last.

That cruel persecuting race
  Must feel his dreadful sword;
Awake, my soul, and praise the grace
  And justice of the Lord.