God is our stronghold and our stay,
Our hope in tribulation;
What though the mountains rock and sway
To earth's long-hid foundation?
What though the ocean roar,
Fast gaining on the shore,
The hurtling storm rage loud
Beneath the thunder cloud?
Our hearts are all untroubled.
The might of water sinks to rest;
How calm yon river glideth,
God's city mirrored on its breast,
The house where he abideth!
Hushed be all strife and din!
His presence dwells within,
She standeth unremoved,
By God himself beloved,
Who helpeth her right early.
In vain the heathen shout for war,
In vain our foes assemble;
The voice of God is heard from far,
And earth itself shall tremble.
He breaks the spear and bow,
He lays the warrior low,
The chariot burns with flame;
Our trust is in his Name,
And Jacob's God our refuge!
Be still, the Lord is God alone,
Let all the world adore him,
And bending low before his throne,
For pitying grace implore him.
His kingdom is within,
O'er hearts made pure from sin,
Where love that casts out fear
Exults to feel him near,
The Lord of hosts our refuge.
|First Line:||God is our stronghold and our stay|
|Versifier:||Elizabeth Wordsworth (1903)|
|Topic:||Sundays afte Trinity; Sundays after Trinity: Faith|
|Name:||EIN FESTE BURG|
|Composer:||Martin Luther (1529)|
|Notes:||A higher setting is provided at #213|