O clyw fy ngwaedd a gwel fy ngwedd

O clyw fy ngwaedd, a gwel fy ngwedd,
Fe hydd am ddwr,
    'rwy'n brefu am hedd;
  Tyr'd, O fy Nuw,
      cwyd fi uwch nen,
  I'th lwyr fwynhau
      o fewn i'r llen.

Gwel fi yn llesg, a gwrando'm llef;
Mi wnes im' nyth
    wrth borth dy nef,
  Lle 'rosaf byth,
      tra byddwyf byw,
  Nes cael rhoi naid
      i gol fy Nuw.

Fy nghlwyfau mawr a dd'wed i maes,
Im' ddioddef cûr
    gan elyn câs;
  Llesg wyf ers tro,
      gan hynny trin
  Fy nghalon wan â nefol wîn.

On'd oes mawr lu
    yn y nefol wlad
Yn nofio'n rhwydd mewn cariad rhad?
  Peth 'hono rho i'm henaid trist,
  A gwrando nghwyn
      er mwyn fy Nghrist.

'Does dim wna les
    is nefol len,
Nes teimlwy' mhwys
    ar Grist fy Mhen;
  Mae 'nghalon fach yn awr yn friw,
  Trwy ddysgwyl wrth fy anwyl Dduw.

Pa bryd y gwela'i'r ddedwydd awr
I'm beiau'n llu
    gael myn'd i'r llawr?
  Yn bur heb len
      gael gwel'd fy Nghrist,
  A myned trwy f'holl ofid trist.

O n'allwn beidio pechu'n llyn,
A disgwyl fry ar Bisga fryn,
  Nes gwawrio o draw
      dragwyddol ddydd,
  At Iesu'n rhwydd ai f'enaid rhydd.

Os na pherffeiddi fi îs nen,
Nes myn'd o'm poen
    i grymu'm pen;
  Rho dy fwynhau yn Nghedar drist,
  Gormod yw'm cûr heb
      gwmp'ni'm Crist.

O hear my shout, and see my condition,
Like a deer for water,
    I am bleating for peace;
  Come, O my God,
      raise me above the sky,
  Completely to enjoy thee
      within the curtain.

See me feeble, and hear my cry;
I made my nest
    at the portal of thy heaven,
  Where I will stay forever,
      while ever I am living,
  Until getting to give a leap
      into the bosom of my God.

My great wounds tell out,
Of my suffering a beating
    by a detestable enemy,
  I have been feeble for a while,
      therefore treat
  My weak heart with heavenly wine.

Is there not a great host
    in the heavenly country
Swimming freely in free love?
  Something of this give to my sad soul,
  And listen to my complaint
      for the sake of my Christ.    

Nothing does anything beneficial
    under the heavenly sheet,
Until feeling my weight
    on Christ my Head;
  My little heart is now bruised,
  Through waiting on my belover God.

When shall I see the happy hour
For my faults as a host
    to get to go down?
  Purely without a sheet
      to get to see my Christ,
  And go through all my sad grief.

O that I could stop sinning thus,
And wait above on Pisgah hill,
  Until the dawning from
      yonder eternal day,
  Towards Jesus would my free soul go.

If thou dost not perfect me under the sky,
Until I go from my pain
    to strengthen my head;
  Grant to enjoy thee in sad Kedar,
  Too much is my ache without
      the company of Christ.