Pa fodd fy enaid euog?

Pa fodd, fy enaid euog,
  Y sefi yn erbyn grym
Cyfiawnder hyd yr eithaf,
  Na ad heb dalu ddim,
Sy'n chwilio yr arenau,
  A holl ddyfnderoedd dyn,
Yn eglur fel yr heulwen
  I lygad Duw ei hun?

Digiasom Dduw anfeidrol,
  Enguriol yw ein bai,
Dyoddefaint mawr anfeidrol 
  Sy raid gael i'n hiachâu;
Dyoddef llid ar unwaith,
  Gan berson gwych ei ryw,
Neu fyth i dragwyddoldeb
  Fod tan felldithion Duw.

Aeth Iesu tan y cwbl,
  A hyny i gyd yn rhad;
Mae'r tâl hyd eitha'r ddyled
  Ofynir gan y Tad,
Hyd at yr hatling leiaf,
  Wrth ddifaddeuol ri';
Iawn arall nis gofynir
  O flaen yr orsedd fry.

Pa aberth roddir, Arglwydd,
  Am bechod sydd mor fawr,
A'i bwysau fel y bryniau,
  Ei rif fel gwellt y llawr?
Ai miloedd o fyheryn
  Wna f'enaid bach yn wyn,
Neu fyrdd o ffiydiau olew,
  Neu lawer gyda hyn?

Nid edrych Iôr ar weddi,
  Nid edrych Iôr ar waith,
Nac offrwm poeth, nac aberth,
  Mawl, nac elusen chwaith,
Na llafur, na diwydrwydd,
  Zel, nac ymprydiau trist,
Na dim, at faddeu pechod,
  Ond angeu Iesu Grist.

Os Satan, neu gydwybod,
  Neu lym gyfiawnder Duw,
A blediant echryslondeb
  Y pechod drwg ei ryw;
Mai gwâg yw pob creadur
  Am dano i wneuthur Iawn;
Cyhoeddi mae'r efengyl
  Fod Iesu Grist yn llawn.

How, my guilty soul,
  Standest thou against the force
Of righteousness to the utmost,
  That lets no-one pay anything,
That searches the kidneys,
  And all the depths of man,
Clearly like the sunshine
  To the eye of God himself?

We angered immeasurable God,
  Terrible is our fault,
Great immeasurable suffering
  Must be had to heal us;
Suffering wrath as once,
  By a person of a brilliant sort,
Of forever to an eternity
  To be under the condemnation of God.

Jesus underwent the whole,
  And that altogether freely;
The payment to the extent of the debt
  Is demanded by the Father,
To the smallest mite,
  From an unforgiving number;
No other Satisfaction is demanded
  Before the throne above.

What sacrifice is to be given, Lord,
  For sin that is so great,
With its weight like the hills,
  Its number like the straw of the ground?
Will thousands of rams
  Make my soul white,
Or myriads of steams of oil,
  Or much with this?

The Lord looks not upon prayer,
  The Lord looks not upon work,
Or a burnt offering, or a sacrifice,
  Praise, or charity either,
Or labour, or devotion,
  Zeal, or sad fastings,
Or anything, to forgive sin,
  But the death of Jesus Christ.

If Satan, or conscience,
  Or the keen righteousness of God,
Plead the atrocity
  Of the sin of an evil kind;
That empty is every creature
  For itself to make Atonement;
Announcing is the gospel
  That Jesus Christ is full.