Mae'r stormydd sydd yn curo

Mae'r stormydd sydd yn curo
  Mor flin ar f'enaid gwan,
Yn gwneud im anobeithio
  Cyrhaedded byth y lan;
Ti'r Hwn â'th air ddistawodd
  Y gwynt a'r tonnau maith
All lwyr dawelu'r terfysg,
  A'm cynnal ar fy nhaith.

Mae llygredd mawr fy nghalon
  Bron llwyr ddistewi 'nghân,
Wrth daeru beunydd wrthyf
  Na ddeuaf byth yn lân;
Un olwg ar rinweddau
  Y ffynnon olchodd lu,
A ddyry imi obaith
  Y'm cennir,
      er mor ddu.

Ddwyreinwynt garw, gosteg,
  Hen anghrediniaeth, taw;
Elynion creulon, chwithau,
  Ar unwaith sefwch draw!
Os llesg ac eiddil ydwyf,
  Y Cadarn sydd o'm plaid;
Mewn myrdd o orthrymderau
  Fe ddyry nerth wrth raid.

The storms which are beating
  So grievously upon my weak soul,
Making me lose hope
  May they never reach the shore;
Thou, the one who with thy word quietened
  The wind and the huge waves,
Canst completely still the tumult,
  And uphold me upon my journey.

The great corruption of my heart
  Is almost completely silencing my song,
While insisting daily to me
  That I shall never come up;
One look upon the merits
  Of the fount that washed a host,
Shall grant to me hope
  That I shall be bleached,
      although so black.

Rough East Wind, be subdued,
  Old Unbelief, silence!
And ye cruel Enemies,
  At once stand yonder!
If faint and feeble I be,
  The Strong One is on my side;
In a myriad of oppressions
  He will give me strength at need.