Does not wisdom cry out, And understanding lift up her voice?
She takes her stand on the top of the high hill, Beside the way, where the paths meet.
She cries out by the gates, at the entry of the city, At the entrance of the doors:
"To you, O men, I call, And my voice is to the sons of men.
O you simple ones, understand prudence, And you fools, be of an understanding heart.
Listen, for I will speak of excellent things, And from the opening of my lips will come right things;
For my mouth will speak truth; Wickedness is an abomination to my lips.