Wele'r Oen ar fynydd Sïon

Wele'r Oen ar fynydd Sïon,
  'Nawr a'i weision gydag ef;
Dwyn maent enw'u
    Tad a'u Harglwydd,
  Dyma arwydd Brenin nef:
    Wele'r llu, sanctaidd sy
    'N teithio tua Salem fry.

Pedair mil a saith ugeinmil,
  Dyma lu ofnadwy iawn,
Oll yn canu eu telynau,
  O foreuddydd hyd brydnawn;
    Uchel lef, gadarn gref,
    Yn moliannu Brenin nef.

Newydd byth a fydd eu hanthem,
  Cân briodol iddynt hwy;
Ger bron nefoedd a'r orseddfainc,
  Canant am ei farwol glwy';
    Yn un llef, groyw gref,
    Oll dywedant, "Iddo Ef."

Ni ŵyr neb ond sydd brofiadol,
  Am yr anthem ddwyfol hon:
"Hedd, maddeuant glân,
      a chymmod,
  A thangnefedd dan fy mron;"
    Dyma yw, rasol ryw,
    Gân holl waredigion Duw.

See the Lamb on mount Zion,
  Now with his servants with him;
Bearing they are the name of their
    Father and their Lord,
  Here is the sign of the King of heaven:
    See the host, which is holy
    Travelling towards Salem above.

One hundred and forty thousand,
  Here is a very terrible host,
All playing their harps,
  From morning until evening;
    With a loud voice, firm, strong,
    Praising the King of heaven.

New forever shall be their anthem,
  A song belonging to them;
Before heaven and the throne,
  They will sing about his mortal wound;
    In one voice, pure, strong,
    They all say, "Unto Him."

No-one knows except the experienced,
  About that divine anthem:
"Peace, pure forgiveness,
      and reconciliation,
  And tranquility beneath my breast;"
    Here is, of a gracious sort,
    The song of all those delivered by God.