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;

And armed with cruel hate,

His craft and power are great.

On earth is not his equal.

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.