C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
A Safe Stronghold Our God Is Still
By Martin Luther (1483–1546)
A
A trusty shield and weapon;
He’ll help us clear from all the ill
That hath us now o’ertaken.
The ancient Prince of Hell
Hath risen with purpose fell;
Strong mail of craft and power
He weareth in this hour—
On earth is not his fellow.
Full soon were we down-ridden;
But for us fights the proper man,
Whom God himself hath bidden.
Ask ye, Who is this same?
Christ Jesus is his name,
The Lord Zebaoth’s Son—
He, and no other one,
Shall conquer in the battle.
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 e’er he will,
He harms us not a whit:
For why? his doom is writ—
A word shall quickly slay him.
One moment will not linger;
But spite of hell shall have its course—
’Tis written by his finger.
And though they take our life,
Goods, honor, children, wife,
Yet is their profit small:
These things shall vanish all—
The City of God remaineth.