Yng nghroes Crist y gorfoleddaf

Yng nghroes Crist y gorfoleddaf,
  Croes uwch difrod amser yw;
Yn ei llewyrch pur y gwelaf
  Holl gyflawnder gras fy Nuw.

Doed cystuddiau'r
    byd i'm gwasgu,
  Siom a gofid i'm dwysáu,
Croes fy Arglwydd byth ni'm gedy,
  Deil o hyd i'm llawenhau.

Pan dywynno ar fy llwybrau
  Lewyrch pob rhyw
      wynfyd sydd,
Tyr o'r groes
    sancteiddiach golau,
  Mil disgleiriach
      yw na'r dydd.

Colled, ennill, poen, llawenydd
  A sancteiddir ganddi hi;
Rhydd i'm henaid hedd tragywydd,
  Hon a foddia 'nyfnaf gri.

Yng nghroes Crist y gorfoleddaf,
  Croes uwch difrod amser yw;
Yn ei llewyrch pur y gwelaf
  Holl gyflawnder gras fy Nuw.

In the cross of Christ I rejoice,
  A cross above the ruin of time it is;
In its pure radiance I see
  All the fulness of the grace of my God.

May the afflictions of the
    world not squeeze me, nor
  Disappointment and grief press me hard,
The cross of my Lord shall never leave me,
  It will always keep on giving me joy.

When upon my paths be shining
  The gleam of every kind of
      blessedness there is,
From the cross shall break
    a more sacred light,
  A thousand times more radiant
      it is than the day.

Loss, gain, pain, joy
  Are sanctified by it;
It gives to my soul eternal peace,
  This shall satisfy my deepest cry.

In the cross of Christ I rejoice,
  A cross above the ruin of time it is;
In its pure radiance I see
  All the fulness of the grace of my God.

In the cross of Christ I glory,
  Towering o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
  Gathers round its head sublime.

When the woes of life
    o'ertake me,
  Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
Never shall the cross forsake me,
  Lo! it glows with peace and joy.

When the sun of bliss is beaming
  Light and love
      upon my way,
From the cross
    the radiance streaming
  Adds more lustre
      to the day.

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
  By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
  Joys that through all time abide.

In the cross of Christ I glory,
  Towering o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
  Gathers round its head sublime.