Behold the sure foun­da­tion stone
Which God in Zi­on lays,
To build our heav’nly hopes up­on,
And His eter­nal praise.

Chosen of God, to sin­ners dear,
And saints ad­ore the name,
They trust their whole sal­va­tion here,
Nor shall they suf­fer shame.

The fool­ish build­ers, scribe and priest,
Reject it with dis­dain;
Yet on this Rock the Church shall rest,
And en­vy rage in vain.

What tho’ the gates of hell with­stood,
Yet must this build­ing rise;
’Tis Thy own work, al­migh­ty God,
And won­drous in our eyes.