A mighty Fortress is our God,

A trusty Shield and Weapon,

He helps us in our every need

That hath us now o’ertaken.

The old malignant foe

E’er means us deadly woe:

Deep guile and cruel might

Are his dread arms in fight,

On earth is not his equal.

With might of ours can naught be done,

Soon were our loss effected;

But for us fights the Valiant One

Whom God Himself elected.

Ask ye who this may be?

Christ Jesus, it is He,

As Lord of Hosts adored,

Our only King and Lord,

He holds the field forever.

Though devils all the world should fill,

All watching to devour us,

We tremble not, we fear no ill,

They cannot overpower us.

For this world’s prince may still

Scowl fiercely as he will,

We need not be alarmed,

For he is now disarmed;

One little word o’erthrows him.

The Word they still shall let remain,

Nor any thanks have for it;

He’s by our side upon the plain,

With His good gifts and Spirit.

Take they, then, what they will,

Life, goods, yea, all; and still,

E’en when their worst is done,

They yet have nothing won,

The kingdom ours remaineth.