Our God's a fastness sure indeed,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He helps us free in every need
That unto us may happen.
The old wicked foe
Now in earnest doth go,
Deep wiles and great might
In his fell store unite, —
The earth holds not his fellow.
By strength of ours is nothing done,
Full soon are we dejected!
But on our side's a champion
By God himself elected.
And who may that be?
Christ Jesus is he,
The Lord God of Hosts!
All gods else are vain boasts,
Our camp is in his keeping.
Though demons rage both far and near,
And gape our souls to swallow;
Not all too great shall be our fear;
Success our steps shall follow.
The prince of this world,
Though threats he hath hurled,
To us can do nought,
For if to judgment brought
One word declares his sentence.
To let the word stand they are fain,
And small thereby their merit;
He dwells among us on the plain
With gifts and with his spirit.
What though they take life,
Goods, name, child, and wife,
We need not rebel —
No profit those to hell,
While ours must be the kingdom.