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, O 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.