I [D'wysog / Frenin] y goleuni glân

I D'wysog y goleuni glân
Fu'n gwisgo cnawd, dyrchefwch gân;
  Trwy byrth haiarnaidd
      angeu'r aeth
  A dryllio'i gedyrn farau wnaeth.


Nid brenin braw yw angeu 'nawr,
Er pan gyfodod Iesu mawr;
  Fe dynnodd ef ei golyn llym,
  A 'speiliodd uffern fawr a'i grym.


Plant dynion codwch fynu'ch llef,
A'ch holl eneidiau atto ef;
  Mewn pûr ganiadau yn gyttûn
  I foli ein Prynwr, Duw a Dyn.


Angylion a'ch telynau de'wch,
Y peraidd dannau
    uchaf trewch:
  A holl trigolion
      nef a llawr
  Cyd-seiniwch glôd
      Immanuel mawr.

             - - - - -
            1,(2),3,4,5.

I Frenin y goleuni glân,
Fu yn y bedd, fy enaid cân;
  Trwy byrth haiarnaidd
      angeu'r aeth,
  A dryllio'r cedyrn farau wnaeth.


Nid brenin braw yw angeu'n awr,
Er pan gyfododd Iesu mawr:
  Fe dynodd ef ei golyn llym,
  Yspeiliodd uffern fawr ei grym.


Y gwiw Orchfygwr! gwelwch Ef
Yn esgyn at y Tad i'r nef;
  Mae'r Hwn a hoeliwyd ar y pren
  Yn awr i'r bydoedd oll yn ben.


Plant dynion, codwch fry eich llef,
A'ch holl eneidiau ato Ef,
  Mewn pêr ganiadau yn gytûn,
  I foli'ch Prynwr, Duw a dyn.


Angelion a'ch telynau de'wch,
A'ch peraidd dannau uchaf t'rewch,
  A holl greaduriaid nef a llawr,
  I seinio moliant Iesu mawr.

gwelir:
  Newyddion braf a ddaeth i'n bro
  Nid brenin braw yw angeu'n awr

To the Prince of the holy light
Who wore flesh, raise ye a song;
  Through the iron portals
      of death he went
  And break the firm bars he did.


No king of terror is death now,
Ever since great Jesus arose;
  He pulled out its sharp sting,
  And spoiled great hell and its force.


Ye children of men raise up your cry,
With all your souls unto him;
  In pure songs in agreement
  To praise our Redeemer, God and Man.


Ye angels with your harps, come,
The highest loudest, sweet
    strings strike ye:
  With all the residents
      of heaven and earth
  Sound ye together the acclaim
      of great Immanuel.

               - - - - -
 

To the King of the pure light,
Who was in the grave, my soul, sing;
  Through the iron-like portals
      of death he went,
  And break the firm bars he did.


Not the king of fear is death now,
Since great Jesus arose:
  He pulled out his sharp sting,
  He spoiled hell with its great force.


The true conqueror, see ye Him!
Ascending to the Father in heaven;
  He who was nailed on the tree is
  Now to all the worlds as head.


Children of men, raise up your cry,
And all your souls unto Him,
  In sweet songs in agreement,
  To praise your Redeemer, God and man.


Angels with your harps come ye,
And your sweet strings strike ye loudly;
  And all creatures of heaven and earth,
  To sound the praise of great Jesus.

Hosannah to the Prince of light,
  That clothed Himself in clay,
Entered the iron gates of death,
  And tore the bars away.
Death is no more the king of dread,
  Since our Immanuel rose;
He took the tyrant's sting away,
  And spoiled our hellish foes.

See how the conqueror mounts aloft,
  And to His Father flies,
With scars of honour in His flesh
  And triumph in His eyes.
There our exalted Saviour reigns,
  And scatters blessings down;
Our Jesus fills the middle seat
  Of the celestial throne.

Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
  To reach His blest abode;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
  To our incarnate God.
Bright angels, strike
    your loudest strings,
  Your sweetest voices raise;
Let Heav'n and all created things
  Sound our Immanuel's praise.
               - - - - -
 

To the King of the pure light,
  That clothed Himself in clay,
Entered the iron gates of death,
  And tore the bars away.
Death is no more the king of dread,
  Since our Immanuel rose;
He took the tyrant's sting away,
  And spoiled our hellish foes.


See how the conqueror mounts aloft,
  And to His Father flies,
With scars of honour in His flesh
  And triumph in His eyes.
There our exalted Saviour reigns,
  And scatters blessings down;
Our Jesus fills the middle seat
  Of the celestial throne.


Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
  To reach His blest abode;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
  To our incarnate God.
Bright angels, strike
    your loudest strings,
  Your sweetest voices raise;
Let Heav'n and all created things
  Sound our Immanuel's praise.