A safe stronghold, our God is still A trusty shield and weapon He'll help us clear from all the ill That hath us now overtaken The ancient prince of hell Hath risen with purpose fell Strong mail of craft and force He weareth in this hour On earth is not his fellow And were this world all devils o'er And watching to devour us We lay it not to heart so sore Not they can overpower us And let the prince of ill Look grim as ever he will He harms us not a whit For why? his doom is writ A word shall quickly slay him ♪ God's word, for all their craft and force One moment will not linger But, spite of hell, shall have its course 'Tis written by his finger And though before our eyes All that we daily pray This is beyond recall Yet is their profit small God's Kingdom has remaineth