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A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

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 though this world, with devils filled, / Should threaten to undo us, / We will not fear, for God hath willed / His truth to triumph through 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 powers, / 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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