A Fortress firm and stedfast Rock

Is God in time of danger,

A Shield and Sword in every shock,

From foe well known or stranger.

The old foe of man,

Intent on his plan,

With might and with craft

Still plies each deadly shaft;

His like earth saw not ever.

In our own might, so lost our plight,

Our arm no conquest gaineth;

That Righteous Man must win the fight

Whom God Himself ordaineth:

Thou askest His Name?

None else bears the same—

Christ Jesus the Lord,

As God of Hosts adored,

’Tis He must win the battle.

And were the world a hungry crew

Of devils all around us,

Their leaguered host we could subdue,

The thought need not confound us:

The world’s vanquished prince

His doom had long since;

His fiercest array

One word of faith can fray,

In spite of threatening gesture.

Unharmed the Word shall yet remain—

For this no thanks they merit—

He aids us on our battle-plain

With his good gifts and Spirit.

Then take they our life,

Wealth, fame, child and wife:

No triumph they gain,

For all their boast is vain,

While ours is still the kingdom.