Pan fu [ein/fy] Arglwydd mawr

Pan fu fy Arglwydd mawr
    Yn llawr y bedd,
Cynhesodd wely i mi
    Rhag oeri'm gwedd;
Yn rhydd, ryw ddydd a ddaw, 
  Rho'wch fi â'ch llaw'r un lle;
'Rwy'n caru, er yn wàn,
    Y fàn bu 'Fe.

Wrth wel'd yr angeu du
    Yn nesu'n awr,
'R wy'n ofni ambell dro
    Wrth gofio'r awr;
Pan gwelwy'r gwaith trwy ffydd
  Y trydydd dydd wnaeth Duw,
Mae 'ngobaith yn fwy cry'
    Do'i fyny'n fyw.

Ni allodd angau a'i lu
    Ddal Iesu'n hwy,
Fe gafodd sigo ei siol
    Â marwol glwy':
Ni ddelir un o'r plant,
  Er mynd i bant y bedd,
Fe'u gwelir ar y lan
    Yn wiwlan wedd.

O Dduw! dôd imi ffydd,
    Bob dydd o'r daith,
'Wel'd Seion yn nesau,
    Dros fryniau maith:
Yn Ben mae yno'n byw
  Fy Iesu, 'n Dduw a dyn,
Fu yma'n wael Ei wedd
    Mewn bedd Ei Hun.

Ei gwmni i gario'r groes
    Trwy f'oes gaf i,
A'i gwmni 'ngwaelod bedd
    Sydd fawredd fri:
Er cael fy rhoi'n y llan
  O fewn i'r graean grud,
Ni'm cleddir o'i ŵydd e'
    Mewn lle 'n y byd.

Er pydru yn y bedd
    Yn farwedd fud,
Daw'r Iesu i'm codi'n iach
    Ar brafiach bryd:
A'm llygaid innau a'i gwêl
  Mae'r gair dan sêl yn wir,
Mewn newydd ddedwydd ddydd,
    Boreddydd clir.

gwelir:
  Ni allodd angau du
  Nid allodd angau du
  Nis gallodd angeu du

When my great Lord was
    In the floor of the grave,
He warmed a bed for me
    Against the coldness of my condition;
Freely, some day to come,
  Give me with thy hand the same place;
I am loving, although weak,
    The place He was.

On seeing the black death
    Drawing near,
I am fearing many a time
    While remembering the hour;
When I will see the work through faith,
  On the third day, that God did,
My hope is more strong
    I shall come up alive.

Death and its host could not
    Hold Jesus any longer,
It got its head crushed
    With a mortal wound:
None of the children is to be held,
  Despite going to the hollow of the grave,
They are to be seen up again
    In a worthy, holy condition.

O God, give to me faith!
    Every day of the journey,
To see Zion getting nearer,
    Over vast hills:
As Head there living is
  My Jesus, as God and man,
Who was here with a poor appearance
    In a grave Himself.

His company to carry the cross
    Throughout my age I may have,
And his company in the bottom of the grave
    Is a greatness of honour:
Although getting put in the churchyard
  Within the gravel cradle,
I am not to be buried from his countenance
     Any place in the world.

Despite decaying in the grave
    Deathly mute,
Jesus shall come to raise me whole
    At a better time:
And my own eyes shall see him
  The word is under seal as true,
In a new, happy day,
    A clear morn of day.