¹Except 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 sorrows’ bread; so gives

he his beloved sleep.

³Lo, children are God’s heritage,

the womb’s fruit his reward.

⁴The sons of youth as arrows are,

for strong men’s hands prepar’d.

⁵O happy is the man that hath

his quiver fill’d with those;

They unashamed in the gate

shall speak unto their foes.