Ere God Had Built the Mountains

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.

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.

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.

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!