Pererin wyf sydd ar fy nhaith

Pererin wyf sydd ar fy nhaith,
I fyd o dragwyddoldeb maith;
  Trwy'r anial mawr mi af ymla'n
  Ar ol fy mhriod, Iesu glān.

'Does yma ddim sydd yn y byd,
Un awr yn deilwyng o fy mryd;
  Mae cariad Iesu'n llawer gwell,
  Na holl drysorau'r India bell.

Nid oes na da, na dyn, na dawn,
All roddi imi heddwch llawn;
  Ond haeddiant Crist,
      a'i ddwyfol loes,
  Rhydd gysur cryf
      o dan bob croes.

Ar fyr o dro caf
    dirio draw,
Uwch cyraedd angau,
    brenin braw;
  Mi fydda'n bur, heb gur na phoen,
  Y'ngwm'ni'r croeshoeliedig Oen.

I pilgrim am I, who am on my journey,
To a world of vast eternity;
  Through the great desert I go onwards
  After my spouse, holy Jesus.

There is nothing here that is in the world,
For one hour worthy of my attention;
  The love of Jesus is much better,
  Than all the treasures of far India.

There is no good, nor man, nor gift,
That can give me full peace;
  But the merit of Christ,
      and his divine anguish,
  That gives strong comfort
      under every cross.

In a little while I shall
    get to land there,
Beyond the reach of death,
    the king of terror;
  I shall be pure, without ache or pain,
  In the company of the crucified Lamb.