A sure stronghold our God is He,

A trusty shield and weapon;

Our help He'll be and set us free

From ev'ry ill can happen.

That old malicious foe

Means us deadly woe;

Arm'd with might from hell

And deepest craft as well,

On earth is not his fellow.

Through our own force we nothing can,

Straight were we lost for ever;

But for us fights the proper Man,

By God sent to deliver.

Ask ye who this may be?

Jesus Christ is He,

Of Sabaoth Lord,

Sole God to be adored--

'T is He must win the battle.

And were the world with devils fill'd,

All eager to devour us,

Our souls to fear should little yield,

They cannot overpower us.

Their dreaded Prince no more

Harms us as of yore;

Look grim as he may,

Doom'd is his ancient sway,

A word can overthrow him.

Still shall they leave that Word His might,

And yet no thanks shall merit;

Still is He with us in the fight

By His good gifts and Spirit.

E'en should they take our life,

Wealth, name, child, or wife--

Though all these be gone,

Yet nothing have they won,

God's kingdom ours abideth!