Nid oes pleser, nid oes tegan,
  Nid oes enw mewn un man,
Er ei fri a'i holl ogoniant,
  Fyth a lesia i'm henaid gwan;
    Ond fy Iesu -
  Ef ei hunan yw fy Nuw.

Mae deng myrddiwn o rinweddau
  Dwyfol yn ei enw pur;
Yn ei wedd mae
      tegwch ragor
  Nag a welodd môr na thir;
    Mo'i gyffelyb
  Erioed ni welodd nef y nef.

Mae yn maddeu beiau mawrion,
  Mae yn caru yn ddi drai;
A lle caro, mae ei gariad
  Yn dragwyddol yn parhau;
    Nid oes terfyn
  I'w amynedd ef a'i ras.

Ynddo mae afonydd mawrion
  O ffyddlondeb ac o hedd;
Er fy mwyn dyoddefodd angau,
  A gorweddodd yn y bedd;
    Fel y gallwn
  Fyn'd i mewn i'r ddinas bur.

           - - - - -

Nid oes trysor,
    nid oes pleser,
  Nid oes enw mewn un man,
Er ei fri a'i holl ogoniant,
  A foddlona f'enaid gwan;
    Ond fy Iesu,
  A fu farw ar y groes.

Mae myrddiynau o rinweddau
  Dwyfol yn ei enw'n wir;
Yn ei wedd mae mwy o degwch
  Nag a welodd môr na thir;
    Gwỳn a gwridog,
  Oll yn hawddgar yw efe.

Ar ei Berson, difyr sylla
  Lluoedd llon y nefoedd lân;
Hwn yw testyn eu myfyrdod,
  Sylwedd eu tragwyddol gân;
    Enw'r Iesu,
  Sy'n pereiddio'r nefol sain.

          - - - - -

Nid oes bleser, nid oes degan,
  Nid oes enw mewn un man,
Er ei fri a'i holl ogoniant,
  Fyth a lesâ fy enaid gwan;
    Ond fy Iesu -
  Ef ei Hunan yw fy Nuw.

Mae deng myrddiwn o rinweddau
  Dwyfol yn ei Enw pur;
Yn ei wedd mae
      tegwch ragor
  Nag a welodd môr na thir:
    Rhosyn Saron
  Oll yn hawddgar yw Efe.

Gwyn a gwridog yw fy Arglwydd,
  Gwyn a gwridog yw ei wedd;
Brenin y breninoedd ydyw
  Yna thu draw i'r bedd:
    Mae dy degwch
  Wedi'm hennill ar dy ol.

gwelir:
  Dyma Geidwad i'r colledig
  Gwyn a gwridog yw fy Arglwydd
  Iesu Iesu 'rwyt ti'n ddigon
  Mae deng myrddiwn o rinweddau
  Mae fy meiau fel mynyddau
  Rho gydwybod wedi ei chànu
  Y mae rhinwedd gras y nefoedd

There is no pleasure, there is no trinket,
  There is no name in any place,
Despite its renown and all its glory,
  That ever is of benefit to my weak soul;
    But my Jesus -
  He himself is my God.

There are ten myriads of divine
  Merits in his pure name;
In his face there is
       a more excellent fairness
  Than sea or land has seen;
    His equal
  The heaven of heaven has never seen.

He is forgiving great faults,
  He is loving unebbingly;
And where he loves, his love is
  Eternally enduring;
    There is no end
  To his patience and his grace.

In him there are great rivers
  Of faithfulness and of peace;
For my sake he suffered death,
  And he lay in the grave;
    That we might
  Go into the pure city.

                - - - - -

There is no treasure,
    there is no pleasure,
  There is no name in any place,
Despite its honour and all his glory,
  Which can satisfy my weak soul;
    But my Jesus,
  Who did die on the cross.

There are myriads of divine
  Merits in his name truly;
In his face there is more fairness
  Than sea or land saw;
    White and ruddy,
  All beautiful is he.

On his Person, gaze intently
  Cheerful hosts of the pure heavens;
He is the theme of their meditation,
  The substance of their eternal song;
    The name of Jesus,
  Is sweetening the heavenly sound.

               - - - - -

There is no pleasure, there is no trinket,
  There is no name in any place,
Despite its renown and all its glory,
  That ever can relieve my weak soul;
    But my Jesus -
  He himself is my God.

There are ten myriads of divine
  Merits in his pure name;
In his countenance is
    a fairness superior
  To any sea or land has seen;
    The Rose of Sharon
  All beautiful is he.

White and ruddy is my Lord,
  White and ruddy is his countenance;
The King of kings is he
  Here and beyond the grave:
    Thy fairness has
  Won me after thee.