Mae fy yspryd llesg methedig

Mae fy yspryd llesg methedig,
  Yn tynnu'n unig at fy Nuw;
Ei orsedd ar y drugareddfa,
  Fy nghraig, fy nhwr, fy noddfa yw:
Yn fy ofnau a'm cyyngderau,
  A'r temtasiynau sy'n y byd,
Mae e'n darian iachawdwriaeth
  A chymmorth helaeth im' o hyd.

Ymddiriedwch ynddo seintiau,
  Tywalltwch eich ymbiliau gwael;
Pan ballo 'scil a grym a medr,
  Bydd Duw yn gymmorth hawdd i'w gael;
Mae cariad pûr a hael drugaredd,
  Yn eistedd ar yr orsedd fawr,
Yn fûr o dân o amgylch Sion,
  Daw ei gelynion oll i lawr.

My feeble, failing spirit, is
  Drawing only towards my God;
His throne on the mercy seat,
  My rock, my tower, my refuge is:
In my fears and my straits,
  And the temptations that are in the world,
He is a shield of salvation
  And a generous help to me always.

Trust in him, ye saints,
  Pour out your poor supplications;
When skill and force and ability fail,
  God will be an easy help to get;
Pure love and generous mercy are
  Sitting on the great throne,
As a wall of fire around Zion,
  All his enemies shall come down.