To the chief Musician upon Gittith, A Psalm for the sons of Korah.
8,6,8,6
1How lovely is thy dwelling-place, O Lord of hosts, to me! The tabernacles of thy grace how pleasant, Lord, they be! | 2My thirsty soul longs veh’mently, yea faints, thy courts to see: My very heart and flesh cry out, O living God, for thee. | 3Behold, the sparrow findeth out an house wherein to rest; The swallow also for herself hath purchased a nest; | Ev’n thine own altars,* where she safe her young ones forth may bring, O thou almighty Lord of hosts, who art my God and King. | 4Bless’d are they in thy house that dwell, they ever give thee praise. 5Bless’d is the man whose strength thou art, in whose heart are thy ways: | 6Who passing thorough Baca’s vale, therein do dig up wells; Also the rain that falleth down the pools with water fills. | 7So they from strength unwearied go still forward unto strength, Until in Sion they appear before the Lord at length. | 8Lord God of hosts, my prayer hear; O Jacob’s God, give ear. 9See God our shield, look on the face of thine anointed dear. | 10For in thy courts one day excels a thousand; rather in My God’s house will I keep a door, than dwell in tents of sin. | 11For God the Lord’s a sun and shield: he’ll grace and glory give; And will withhold no good from them that uprightly do live. | 12O thou that art the Lord of hosts, that man is truly blest, Who by assured confidence on thee alone doth rest. | |