Note: This page also has a Long Metre
version of this psalm.
1 Except the Lord do build the house, The builders lose their pain: Except the Lord the city keep, The watchmen watch in vain.
2 Tis vain for you to rise betimes, Or late from rest to keep, To feed on sorrow's bread; so gives He his beloved sleep.
3 Lo, children are God's heritage, To parents his reward. The sons of youth as arrows are, For strong men's hands prepared.
4 O happy is the man that hath His quiver filled with those; They, unashamed, within the gate Shall speak unto their foes.
1 Unless the Lord the house shall build, The weary builders toil in vain; Unless the Lord the city shield, The guards a useless watch maintain.
2 In vain you rise ere morning break, And late your nightly vigils keep, And bread of anxious care partake: God gives to his beloved sleep.
3 Lo, children are the gift of God, And sons the blessing he commands; These, when in youthful days bestowed, Are like the shafts in warrior's hands.