#677 - Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Firm Mountain is our God—German)

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• Composer:
  • Martin Luther

    • #605 - From Heaven I am Coming
    • #607 - It is Now Time
    • #669 - Vor Gud han er saa fast (Our God is Always True—Norwegian)
    • #677 - Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Firm Mountain is our God—German)
    • #678 - Vom Himmel Hoch (From Heaven High—German)
    • #692 - Af Dybsens Nod jeg raabe maa (I May call from the Depth of My Misery—Norwegian)

    (1483-1546), 1529
• Also known as:
  • A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
• MIDI | show
  
• Incipit: 33156176517656432113456545
• Condensed Incipit: 315617651765643213456545
• Incipit: 1115671765176564321 (traditional)
• Condensed Incipit: 15671765176564321 (traditional)
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• Lyrics:
  Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott,
  Ein gute Wehr und Waffen;
  Er hilft uns frei aus aller Not,
  Die uns jetzt hat betroffen.
  Der alt' böse Feind,
  Mit Ernst er's jetzt meint,
  Gross' Macht und viel List
  Sein' grausam' Ruestung ist,
  Auf Erd' ist nicht seingleichen.
  
  Mit unsrer Macht is nichts getan,
  Wir sind gar bald verloren;
  Es steit't für uns der rechte Mann,
  Den Gott hat selbst erkoren.
  Fragst du, wer der ist?
  Er heisst Jesu Christ,
  Der Herr Zebaoth,
  Und ist kein andrer Gott,
  Das Feld muss er behalten.
  
  Und wenn die Welt voll Teufel wär'
  Und wollt' uns gar verschlingen,
  So fürchten wir uns nicht so sehr,
  Es soll uns doch gelingen.
  Der Fürst dieser Welt,
  Wie sau'r er sich stellt,
  Tut er uns doch nicht,
  Das macht, er ist gericht't,
  Ein Wörtlein kann ihn fällen.
  
  Das Wort sie sollen lassen stahn
  Und kein'n Dank dazu haben;
  Er ist bei uns wohl auf dem Plan
  Mit seinem Geist und Gaben.
  Nehmen sie den Leib,
  Gut, Ehr', Kind und Weib:
  Lass fahren dahin,
  Sie haben's kein'n Gewinn,
  Das Reich muss uns doch bleiben.
  
  
  • Martin Luther

    • #605 - From Heaven I am Coming
    • #607 - It is Now Time
    • #669 - Vor Gud han er saa fast (Our God is Always True—Norwegian)
    • #677 - Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Firm Mountain is our God—German)
    • #678 - Vom Himmel Hoch (From Heaven High—German)
    • #692 - Af Dybsens Nod jeg raabe maa (I May call from the Depth of My Misery—Norwegian)

    (1483-1546), 1529
• Lyrics:
  A sure stronghold our God is He,
  A trusty shield and weapon;
  Our help He'll be and set us free
  From every ill can happen.
  That old malicious foe
  Intends us deadly woe;
  Armed with the strength of hell
  And deepest craft as well,
  On earth is not his fellow.
  
  Through our own force we nothing can,
  Straight were we lost forever;
  But for us fights the proper Man,
  By God sent to deliver.
  Ask ye who this may be?
  Christ Jesus named is He,
  Of Sabaoth the Lord;
  Sole God to be adored;
  'Tis he must win the battle.
  
  And were the world with devils filled,
  All eager to devour us,
  Our souls to fear should little yield,
  They cannot overpower us.
  Their dreaded Prince no more
  Can harm us as of yore;
  Look grim as e'er he may,
  Doomed is his ancient sway;
  A word can overthrow him.
  
  Still shall they leave that Word His might,
  And yet no thanks shall merit;
  Still is He with us in the fight,
  By His good gifts and Spirit.
  E'en should they take our life,
  Goods, honour, children, wife—
  Though all of these be gone,
  Yet nothing have they won,
  God's kingdom ours abideth!
  
  
  • trans. William Gaskell, 1855
• Lyrics:
  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 cruel 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.
  
  And though this world, with devils filled, 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.
  
  That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
  The Spirit and the gifts are ours through 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.
  
  
  • trans. Frederic Henry Hedge

    • #669 - Vor Gud han er saa fast (Our God is Always True—Norwegian)
    • #677 - Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Firm Mountain is our God—German)

    (1805-1890), 1853
• See also:
  • #669 - Vor Gud han er saa fast (Our God is Always True—Norwegian)

#669 - Vor Gud han er saa fast (Our God is Always True—Norwegian) and #677 - Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Firm Mountain is our God—German) are the same melody, although some notes and the accompaniment differs significantly.