A mighty fortress is our God, 
A stronghold never failing; 
Our helper He amid the flood 
Of mortal ills prevaling. 
For still our ancient foe 
Conspires to work us woe; 
His craft and power are great, 
And armed with bitter hate, 
On earth is not his equal.

If we in our own strength confide, 
Our striving would be losing, 
Unless God's man is on our side, 
The man of God's own choosing.
You ask who that may be? 
Christ Jesus, it is He; 
The Lord of Hosts, 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 has 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; 
God's word shall overthrow him.

That word above all earthly powers, 
Is evermore abiding; 
The Spirit and the gifts are ours, 
Through Jesus with us siding. 
Let goods and kindred go, 
This mortal life also; 
The body they may kill; 
God's truth is with us still; 
His kingdom is forever.