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 pow’r are great,
And arm’d with cruel hate,
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 tho' 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 for ever.
On earth is not his equal.