1. A might- y for- tress is our God, a bul- wark nev- er fail- ing; Our help- er He, a- mid the flood of mor- tal ills pre- vail- ing: For still our an- cient foe doth seek to work us woe; His craft and pow'r are great, and, armed with cru- el hate, On earth is not his e- qual.

2. Did we in our own strength con- fide, our striv- ing would be lo- sing; Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God's own choos- ing: Dost ask who that may be? Christ Je- sus, it is He; Lord Sa- ba- oth, His name, from age to age the same, And He must win the bat- tle.

3. And though this world, with dev- ils filled, should threat- en to un- do us, We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to tri- umph through us: The Prince of Dark- ness grim, we trem- ble not for him; His rage we can en- dure, for lo, his doom is sure, One lit- tle word shall fell him.

4. That word a- bove all earth- ly pow'rs, no thanks to them, a- bid- eth; The Spi- rit and the gifts are ours through Him who with us si- deth: Let goods and kin- dred go, this mor- tal life al- so; The bo- dy they may kill: God's truth a- bi- deth still, His king- dom is for- ev- er.