Fe gais yr oes ei gwynfyd

Fe gais yr oes ei gwynfyd
  Yn sŵn difyrrwch gau,
Hen ddeall ysytr bywyd
  A'r mwyniant sy'n parhau;
A'm henaid innau flina
  Ar ferw'r dyrfa hy;
O! Dad rho imi yma
  Awr dawel yn dy dŷ.

Ni cheir yng nghwmni'r dyrfa
  Ond pleser ennyd awr;
Yr unig nef sy'n para
  Yw cymni f'Arglwydd mawr;
A chyda'r pererinion
  A gais dy ŵyneb cu,
Rho imi'n hael gysuron
  Awr dawel yn dy dŷ.

Daw dynion yn siomedig
  Oddi wrth bleserau'r oes;
Hudoliaeth byd
    a'i swynion
  A dry yn chwerw loes;
Gwyn fyd y neb a brofodd
  Yr hedd sydd oddi fry;
Ni siomwyd neb a gafodd
  Awr dawel yn dy dŷ.

The age seeks its blessedness
  In the noise of false pleasure,
Without understanding the meaning of life
  And the enjoyment that is enduring;
But my own soul wearies
  At the bustle of the bold throng;
O Father, give me here
  A quiet hour in thy house!

In the company of the throng is got
  Only the pleasure of a brief hour;
The only heaven that lasts
  Is the company of my great Lord;
And with the pilgrims
  Who seek thy dear face,
Give me as generous comforts
  A quiet hour in thy house.

Men shall come disappointed
  From the pleasures of the age;
The magic of the world
    and it's enchantments
  Shall turn into bitter anguish;
Blessed is anyone who has experienced
  The peace that is from above;
No-one is disappointed who got
  A quiet hour in thy house.