[41]Luther.1530.

trans. by William Gaskell, 1855

A sure stronghold our God is He,

A trusty shield and weapon;

Our help He'll be and set us free

From every ill can happen.

That old malicious foe

Intends us deadly woe;

Armed with the strength of hell,

And deepest craft as well,

On earth is not his fellow.

Through our own force we nothing can,

Straight were we lost for ever,

But for us fights the proper Man,

By God sent to deliver.

Ask ye who this may be?

Christ Jesus named is He,

Of Sabaoth the Lord,

Sole God to be adored,

'Tis he must win the battle.

And were the world with devils filled,

All eager to devour us,

Our souls to fear should little yield,

They cannot overpower us.

Their dreaded Prince no more

Can harm us as of yore;

Look grim as e'er he may,

Doomed is his ancient sway;

A word can overthrow him.

Still shall they leave that Word its might,

And yet no thanks shall merit;

Still is He with us in the fight

By His good gifts and Spirit.

E'en should they take our life,

Goods, honour, children, wife,

Though all of these be gone,

Yet nothing have they won --

God's kingdom ours abideth!