Psalm 127

A Song of degrees for Solomon.

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 sorrows' bread; so gives

                   he his beloved sleep.

3        Lo, children are God's heritage,

                   the womb's fruit his reward.

4        The sons of youth as arrows are,

                   for strong men's hands prepar'd.

5        O happy is the man that hath

                   his quiver fill'd with those;

          They unashamed in the gate

                   shall speak unto their foes.