as safe a stronghold our god is still a trusty shield and weapon hell help us clear from all the ill that hath us now oertaken 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  with force of arms we nothing can 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 sabaoths son he and no other one shall conquer in the battle  and were this world all devils oer 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 eer he will he harms us not a whit for why his doom is writ a word shall quickly slay him  gods word for all their craft and force 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 honour children wife yet is their profit small these things shall vanish all the city of god remaineth 