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A mighty fortress is our God, a
bulwark never failing;
Our helper He amid the flood, of mortal ills prevailing
For still our ancient foe, doth seek to work us woe
His craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength
confide, our striving would be losing,
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God's own choosing.
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus it is He
Lord Sabaoth His name, From age to age the same--
And He must win the battle.
And tho this world, with devils
filled, Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed, His truth to triumph thru us.
The prince of darkness grim--We tremble NOT for him;
His rage we can endure, For lo! his doom is sure--
One little word shall fell him.
That word above all earthly
pow'rs--No thanks to them abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours Through Him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go, This mortal life also; The body they may kill:
God's truth abideth still--His kingdom is forever.
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