O ddyfnder trallod codais lef

O ddyfnder trallod codais ìef
Hyd atat ti, fy Nuw, i'r nef;
  Yn llym os creffi ar bob bai,
  Nid oes un cnawd
      o'th flaen a sai'.

Ond ti a godaist orsedd grâs,
I roi o hon bardynau i ma's;
  I becbaduriaîd gael nesâu
  I'th geisio, 'th garu, a'th fwynâu.

Fel teithwyr wedi'r nôs
    a fydd
Mewn hiraeth mawr am wel'd y dydd,
  Mae f'enaid wrth dy borth un ẃedd
  Am wel'd dy wyneb, teìmlo'th hedd.

Rhois yn dy air fy ngoglud maith,
A'm gobaith ni bu'n ofer chwaith:
  Eneidiau blin, at f'Arglwydd dewch,
  Ac esmwythâad o'ch
      blinder cewch.

Mawr yw ei râs a'i gariad rhâd,
Trwy'i Fab a'n prynodd ni
    â'i wa'd|
  Mae'n troi ein traed o'r llwybrau gau,
  A maddeu'n pechod oll a'n bai.

- - - - -

O ddyfnder trallod codais ìef,
Hyd attat ti, fy Nuw, i'r Nef;
  Yn llym os creffi ar bob bai,
  Nid oes un cnawd
      o'th flaen a sai'.

Ond ti a godaist orsedd grâs
I roi oddiyno
    nawdd i'th wâs;
  A phecbaduriaîd gânt nesâu,
  I geisio'th gariad a'th fwynhâu.

Fel teithwyr wedi'r nôs
    a fydd
Mewn hiraeth mawr am wel'd y dydd;
  Mae f'enaid wrth dy borth un ẃedd
  Am wel'd dy wyneb pur mewn hedd.

Rhois yn dy air fy ngoglud maith,
A'm gobaith ni bu'n ofer chwaith:
  Eneidiau blin, at f'Arglwydd dewch,
  Ac esmwythhâd o'ch
      blinder cewch.

Mawr yw ei râs a'i gariad rhâd,
Ei Fab a'n prynodd
    ni â'i wa'd|
  Mae'n troi ein traed o'r llwybrau gau,
  A maddeu'n pechod oll a'n bai.

From the depth of trouble I raised my cry
As far as thee, my God, to heaven;
  If sharply thou dost scan every fault,
  There is no flesh
      that shall stand before thee.

But thou didst raise a throne of grace,
From which to give out pardons;
  For sinners to get to draw near
  To seek thee, love thee, and enjoy thee.

Like travellers after the night
    that shall be
In great longing to see the day,
  My soul is at thy gate in the same way
  Wanting to see thy face, feel thy peace.

I put in thy word my great trust,
and my hope that was not in vain either:
  Weary souls, to my Lord come ye,
  And relief from your
      weariness ye shall have.

Great is his grace and his free love,
Through his Son who redeemed us
    with his blood;
  He turns our feet from the false paths,
  And forgives all our sin and our fault.

- - - - -

From the depth of trouble I raised my cry,
As far as thee, my God, to heaven;
  If sharpley yhou dost scan every fault,
  There is no flesh
      that shall stand before thee.

But thou didst raise a throne of grace,
To grant from there
    protection for thy servant;
  And sinners may draw near,
  To seek thy love and to enjoy thee.

Like travellers after the night
    that shall be
In great longing to see the day;
  My soul is at thy gate in the same way
  Wanting to see pure face in peace.

I put in thy word my great trust,
And my hope that was not in vain either:
  Weary souls, to my Lord come ye,
  And relief from your
      weariness ye shall have.

Great is his grace and his free love,
'Tis his Son who redeemed
    us with his blood;
  He turns our feet from the false paths,
  And forgives all our sin and our fault.

From deep distress and troubled thoughts
  To thee, my God, I raised my cries;
If thou severely mark our faults,
  No flesh can stand
      before thine eyes.

But thou hast built thy throne of grace
  Free to dispense thy pardons there,
That sinners may approach thy face,
  And hope and love, as well as fear.

As the benighted
    pilgrims wait,
  And long, and wish for breaking day,
So waits my soul before thy gate;
  When will my God his face display?

My trust is fixed upon thy word,
  Nor shall I trust thy word in vain;
Let mourning souls address the Lord,
  And find relief from
      all their pain.

Great is his love, and large his grace,
  Through the redemption
      of his Son;
He turns our feet from sinful ways,
  And pardons what our hands have done.

- - - - -

From deep distress and troubled thoughts
  To thee, my God, I raised my cries;
If thou severely mark our faults,
  No flesh can stand
      before thine eyes.

But thou hast built thy throne of grace
  Free to dispense
      thy pardons there,
That sinners may approach thy face,
  And hope and love, as well as fear.

As the benighted
    pilgrims wait,
  And long, and wish for breaking day,
So waits my soul before thy gate;
  When will my God his face display?

My trust is fixed upon thy word,
  Nor shall I trust thy word in vain;
Let mourning souls address the Lord,
  And find relief from
      all their pain.

Great is his love, and large his grace,
  Through the redemption
      of his Son;
He turns our feet from sinful ways,
  And pardons what our hands have done.