7 6, 7 6, 7 6, 7 6. Prov. viii. 22 - 31.

1 ERE God had built the mountains,
Or raised the fruitful hills;
Before he filled 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 surveyed 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 nailed thee to a tree?
Unfathomable wonder,
And mystery divine!
The voice that speaks in thunder
Says, Sinner, I am thine!