A MIGHTY fortress is our God, 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 equal hate, On earth is not his equal. Did we in our own strength confide, 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACES: 4. EVENING (NAHANT) by SARA TEASDALE THE IYYOB TRANSLATION FROM 'A-15' by LOUIS ZUKOFSKY THE DEAD PAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TOM BOWLING ['S EPITAPH] by CHARLES DIBDIN AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD: THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY by JOHN DONNE SONNET: 14. ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF CATHERINE THOMASON by JOHN MILTON THE CASE OF DOMINEERING JOHN ALEXIS UPHAM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |