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A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing; |
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Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing: |
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For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe; |
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His craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate, |
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On earth is not his equal. |
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Verse 2 |
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Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing; |
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Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God's own choosing: |
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Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He; |
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Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same, |
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And He must win the battle. |
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Verse 3 |
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And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, |
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We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us: |
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The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him; |
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His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure, |
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One little word shall fell him. |
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Verse 4 |
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That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth; |
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The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth: |
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Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also; |
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The body they may kill: God's truth abideth still, |
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His kingdom is forever. |
