I ble'r âi 'mofyn heddwch drud?

I ble'r âi 'mofyn heddwch drud?
At bwy greadur yn y byd?
  Pwy laesa 'mhoen,
      pwy dỳn fy maich?
  Nid marwol, ddynol, gnawdol fraich;
Neb ond tydi fu ar y pren,
Yn dyodde' rhwng y ddae'r a'r nen,
  Mil mwy na'r byd
      yw dafnau'th waed
  I roi i'm hysbryd esmwythâd.

Fe bwysa gwaed dy groes fy mai,
Er cy'd o amser mae'n parhau,
  Er cynddeirioced yw ei ryw,
  Ac er mor ddued yw ei liw;
Duw ydwyt ti, mae mynyd awr,
O'th wasgu tan y groes i lawr,
  Yn fwy ei bris ceir
      gwel'd ryw bryd,
  Na holl bechodau
      ffieiddia'r byd.

O dere i ben ddedwyddaf ddydd,
A gad i'm hysbryd fyn'd yn rhydd,
  Rho brawf, rho brawf,
      ar frys i mi,
  O ddwyfol haeddiant Calfari;
Fel gallwyf rodio'n ddinacad,
Tan awel hyfryd
    rin y gwaed,
  A threulio'm hamser ddydd a nos,
  Mewn myfyr am dy angeu loes.

Ac na bo gras o fewn y nef,
Na chafiwyf ran o hono ef:
  A gwn na byddo genyf flas,
  Ond ar dy gariad a dy ras:
Fy unig gysur yn y byd
Fo edrych ar dy wyneb pryd;
  A'm hamser elo heibio'n llawn
  Wrth ganu am dy ddwyfol ddawn.

gwelir: O tyr'd i ben ddedwyddaf ddydd

Where would I go to request precious peace?
To which creature in the world?
  Who will ease my pain,
      who will remove my burden?
  Not a mortal, human, fleshly arm;
None but thou who wast on the tree
Suffering between the earth and the sky,
  A thousand times greater than the world
      are the drops of thy blood
  To give my spirit relief.

The blood of thy cross will weigh my fault,
Despite how much time it continues,
  Despite how wrathful is its kind,
  And despite how black is its colour;
God art thou, a minute of an hour,
Of thy pressing down under the cross,
  Of greater price than is
      to be seen any time,
  Than all the most detestable
      sins of the world.

O bring to pass the last day,
And let my spirit go free,
  Give an experience, give an experience,
      hurriedly to me,
  Of the divine merit of Calvary;
Thus may I walk in innocence,
Under the delightful breeze
    of the virtue of the blood,
  And spend my time day and night,
  In contemplation of thy throes of death.

And may there be no grace within heaven,
That I get no part of:
  And I know I will get no taste,
  But of thy love and thy grace:
My only comfort in the world
Be to look on thy countenance;
  And may my time pass fully
  While singing about thy divine gift.