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; His craft and power are great, And armed with cruel hate, On earth is not his equal. 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. Should threaten to undo us, We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us. The Prince of Darkness grim, We tremble not for him; His rage we can endure, For lo, his doom is sure; One little word shall fell him. No thanks to them, abideth; The Spirit and the gifts are ours, Thru him who with us sideth. Let goods and kindred go, This mortal life also; The body they may kill; God's truth abideth still; His kingdom is forever.