O rhodder i mi aden ffydd

O rhodder i mi aden ffydd,
  I hedeg uwch y nen,
I wel'd gogoniant cartre'r saint,
  Tu draw, tu draw i'r llen.

    Llawer yw'n rhai anwyl,
      Ddisgwyliant ar bob llaw,
        Draw ar euraidd lanau'r wlad
    Llawer yw y lleisiau
      A'n galwant ninau draw,
        I'w nefol lawn fwynhad;
          Galwant ninau draw,
              galwant ninau draw,
        Draw i'r nefol hyfryd wlad.
          Galwant ninau draw,
              galwant ninau draw,
        Draw i'r nefol hyfryd wlad.

Yn mysg galarus deulu'r llawr
  Caed hwythau amser fu,
Yn brwydro'n hir, fel ninau'n awr,
  Yn nglyn wylofain du.

Os holaf hwynt - Pa fodd y bu
  Eu dwyn o'u pla
      a'u poen?
Ateba tanau'r disglaer lu -
  Trwy rinwedd gwaed yr Oen.

Trwy nerth a rhin
    ei ddwyfol glwy',
  Cawn ninau adaw'r llawr;
A chanu'n iach i riddfau mwy,
  Yn nghan y dyrfa fawr.

gwelir:
  Adenydd ffydd yn awr pe cawn
  O Dduw rho imi aden ffydd

O give me the wings of faith,
  To fly above the sky,
To see the glory of the home of the saints,
  Beyond, beyond the veil.

    Many are our dear ones,
      That shine on every hand,
        Yonder on the golden shores of the land
    Many are the voices
      That call us yonder,
         To their heavenly full of enjoyment;
           They call us yonder,
               call us yonder,
         Yonder to the heavenly, lovely land.
           They call us yonder,
               call us yonder,
         Yonder to the heavenly, lovely land.

Amongst the mourning family of earth
  They had a time which was,
Battling long, as we now,
  In the vale of black lamenting.

If I ask them - How was it
  They were brought from their plague
      and their pain?
The strings of the shining host reply -
  Through the merit of the blood of the Lamb.

Through the strength and merit
    of his mortal wound,
  We also may leave the earth;
And sing healthily to groans evermore,
  In the song of the great throng.

Give me the wings of faith to rise
  Within the veil, and see
The saints above, how great their joys,
  How bright their glories be.

    Many are the friends
      Who are waiting today,
        Happy on the golden strand,
    Many are the voices
      Calling us away,
        To join their glorious band.
      Calling us away,
          calling us away,
        Calling to the better land,
      Calling us away,
           calling us away,
        Calling to the better land.

Once they were mourning here below,
  And wet their couch with tears:
They wrestled hard, as we do now,
  With sins, and doubts, and fears.

I ask them whence their victory came:
  They, with united breath,
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb,
 Their triumph to His death.

They marked the footsteps that He trod,
  His zeal inspired their breast;
And following their incarnate God,
  Possess the promised rest.

Our glorious Leader claims our praise
  For His own pattern giv'n;
While the long cloud of witnesses
  Show the same path to Heav'n.