1 Ere God had built the mountains,
Or raised the fruitful hills,
Before he fill'd the fountains
That feed the running rills,
In me, from everlasting,
The wonderful I AM
Found pleasures never wasting,
And Wisdom is my name.
2 When, like a tent to dwell in,
He spread the skies abroad,
And swathed about the swelling
Of ocean's mighty flood,
He wrought by weight and measure;
And I was with him then;—
Myself the Father's pleasure,
And mine the sons of men.
3 Thus Wisdom's words discover
Thy glory and thy grace,
Thou everlasting lover
Of our unworthy race!
Thy gracious eye survey'd us
Ere stars were seen above:
In wisdom thou hast made us,
And died for us in love.
4 And couldst thou be delighted
With creatures such as we!
Who, when we saw thee slighted
And nail'd thee to a tree!
Unfathomable wonder,
And mystery divine,
The voice that speaks in thunder,
Says, "Sinner, I am thine!"