Ein feste Burg
God is our stronghold firm and sure,
Our trusty shield and weapon,
He shall deliver us, whate'er
Of ill to us may happen.
Our ancient Enemy
In earnest now is he,
Much craft and great might
Arm him for the fight,
On earth is not his fellow.
Our might is nought but weakness, soon
Should we the battle lose,
But for us fights the rightful Man,
Whom God Himself doth choose.
Asketh thou His name?
'Tis Jesus Christ, the same
Whom Lord of Hosts we call,
God only over all;
None from the field can drive Him.
What though the world were full of fiends,
That would us sheer devour!
We know we yet shall win the day,
We fear not all their power.
The Prince of this world still,
May struggle as he will,
He nothing can prevail,
A word shall make him quale,
For he is judged of heaven.
The word of God they cannot touch,
Yet have no thanks therefore,
God by His Spirit and His gifts,
Is with us in the war.
Then let them take our life,
Goods, honour, children, wife,
Though nought of these we save,
Small profit shall they have,
The kingdom ours abideth.
(This translation only appears in the first edition
(1855) of Lyra Germanica, First Series: in all
subsequent editions and, slightly altered, in
The Chorale Book for England
(No. 124) and again in
Christian Singers of Germany
the translation by W. Gaskell (1805 - 1884) was used -
A sure stronghold our God is He.
See Catherine Winkworth's
footnote to the preface of second edition
of Lyra Germanica, First Series in 1855).