A
Mighty Fortress Is Our God - Martin Luther,
1483-1546
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