Ni ganwn am gariad Creawdwr yn ddyn

Ni ganwn am gariad
    Creawdwr yn ddyn,
Enynnodd cyn oesoedd
    o fewn iddo'i Hun;
  Ni chwilia ceriwbiaid,
      seraffiaid, na saint,
  Ehangder, na dyfnder,
      nac uchder ei faint.

B'le, Arglwydd, dechreuaf,
    pa ochr, pa du?
Ai yn nhragwyddoldeb, neu Galfari fry?
  Diddechreu, diddiwedd,
      anfeidrol a rhâd
  Yw cariad fy Iesu,
      pan roddodd ei waed.

Rhyfeddod angylion yng
    nghanol y nef,
Rhyfeddod galluoedd a thronau yw ef;
  Diffygia'r ffurfafen
      a'i ser o bob rhyw
  Cyn blinwyf fi ganu
      am gariad fy Nuw.

Edrychwch ar gariad yn dyoddef pob gwae,
Tan ddirmyg a gw'radwydd,
    fyth fyth yn parhau;
  Yn profi o'r bustl a'r finegr sur,
  Yn llonydd tan hoelion,
      tan hoelion o ddur!

Fy enaid, gwêl gariad yn fyw ar y pren,
Ac uffern yn methu darostwng ei ben;
  Er marw fy Iesu,
      er hoelio fy Nuw,
  Parhaodd ei gariad trwy angau yn fyw.

O! ryfedd ddoethineb - rhyfeddod ei hun! -
A ffeindiai'r fath foddion
    i brynu'r fath un:
  Fy Iesu yn marw - fy Iesu oedd Duw,
  Yn marw ar groesbren
      i minnau i gael byw.

O gyfoeth diderfyn, o gariad a grâs,
A redodd fel afon lifeiriol i maes!
  Grâs daena i'r dehau
      a'r dwyrain o'r bron,
  Fe nofia myrddiynau i'r bywyd yn hon.

We sing about the love
    of the Creator of man,
Kindled before ages
    within him Himself;
  Cherubim will not search,
      nor seraphim, nor saints,
  The breadth, or the depth,
      or the height of its extent.

Where, Lord, shall I begin,
    from what side, what point?
In eternity, or Calvary above?
  Without beginning, without ending,
      infinite and free
  Is the love of my Jesus,
      when he shed his blood.

The wonder of angels in
    the centre of heaven,
The wonder of powers and thrones is he;
  The firmament shall fail
      and its stars of every kind
  Before I tire of singing
      about the love of my God.

Look ye on love suffering every woe,
Under scorn and mocking,
    forever and ever enduring;
  Tasting the bile and the sour vinegar,
  Cheerfully under nails,
      under nails of steel!

My soul, see love living on the tree,
And hell failing to bow his head;
  Despite the death of my Jesus,
      despite the nailing of my God,
  His love endured through death alive.

O wonder of wisdom! - wonder itself! -
Which would find such means
    to redeem such a one:
  My Jesus dying - my Jesus was God,
  Dying on the wooden cross
      for me to get to live.

O endless wealth, of love and grace,
That ran out like a streaming river!
  Grace spreads to the south
      and the east completely,
  Myriads shall swim to life in this.