O where are kings and empires now
Of old that went and came?
But, Lord, Thy church is praying yet,
A thousand years the same.
We mark her goodly battlements,
And her foundations strong;
We hear within the solemn voice
Of her unending song.
For not like kingdoms of the world
Thy holy church, 0 God;
Though earthquake shocks are threatening her,
And tempests are abroad;
Unshaken as eternal hills,
Immovable she stands,
A mountain that shall fill the earth,
A house not made by hands.