Mae plant y byd yn holi

Mae plant y byd yn holi,
  Ac yn rhyfeddu'n syn
Pan fwy i'n molianu f'Arglwydd
  'Beth yw'r ynfydrwydd hyn?'
Rhyddhawyd fi o'm caethiwed,
  Ni thawaf ddim a son,
Mi gana yn ngwyneb gwawdwyr
  Am rinwedd gwaed yr Oen.

Mi fu'm yn hir dan gwmwl
  Yn ffaelu canmol Duw,
'Roedd pechod a'i euogrwydd
  O'm mewn fel colyn byw;
Fe dynwyd hwnw ymaith
  Ynghyd a'i bwys a'i boen,
Mi ganaf yn dragywydd
  Am rinwedd gwaed yr Oen.

Mi fu'm dan fynydd Sinai
  Dan ofnau Duw a'i wg,
Heb glywed ond bygythion,
  Taranau, mellt, a mwg;
Ond de's i Sion dawel,
  P'odd gallai dewi a sôn,
Heb ganu yn wastadol
  Am rinwedd gwaed yr Oen.

A pheth pe bawn yn neidio,
  A'i wneyd e gyda pharch,
A chwareu megis Dafydd
  Cyn hyn o flaen yr arch:
Neu'r cloff wrth borth y deml,
  Am hwnw clywsoch sôn,
Pan oedd e'n teimlo iechyd
  A rhinwedd gwaed yr Oen.

The children of the world are asking,
  And wondering with surprise
When I am praising my Lord
  "What is this madness?"
I was set free from my captivity,
  I will not be silent and tell,
I will sing in the face of mockers
  About the merit of the blood of the Lamb.

I was for long under a cloud
  Failing to praise God,
There was sin and its guilt
  Within me like a living sting;
He pulled that out
  Together with its weight and its pain,
I will sing in eternity
  About the merit of the blood of the Lamb.

I was under the mountain Sinai
  Under fear of God and his frown,
Without hearing anything but threats,
  Thunder, lightning, and smoke;
But I came to quiet Zion,
  Whatever I could keep quiet from telling,
It excludes telling constantly
  About the merit of the blood of the Lamb.

And whatever, if I would be leaping,
  And doing it with reverence,
And playing like David
  Formerly before the ark:
Or the lame by the gate of the temple,
  About this hear ye tell,
When he was feeling the healing
  And the merit of the blood of the Lamb.

Men of the world are asking,
  Much wondering at me,
When I my Lord am praising,
  'What can this folly be?'
I am released from bondage,
  And though the mockers throng,
The precious blood of Jesus
  Shall always be my song.

A cloud once darkened o'er me,
  No praises could I sing;
Sin and its guilty sorrow
  Pierced through me with its sting:
But that has been removèd,
  And all its weight of pain -
The precious blood of Jesus
  I sing, and sing again.

I stood at Sinai trembling,
  Where God upon me frowned;
Dark threatenings broke in thunders,
  The lightning flashed around:
I came to peaceful Zion -
  How can I songless be? -
The precious blood of Jesus
  Is all the world to me.

What, though I leap rejoicing?
  Sweet reverence guides my thought;
Like David's godly dancing
  When home the ark was brought;
Or, like the lame man's rapture,
  Healed at the temple gate -
The precious blood of Jesus
  Brought health and good estate.