“Ere God had built the mountains,
Or raised the fruitful hills;
Before He filled the fountains
That feed the running rills;
In Thee, from everlasting,
The wonderful I Am
Found pleasures never wasting,
And Wisdom is Thy name.
And couldst Thou he 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!’”