If the LORD doesn't build the house
Those who labor work in vain
If the LORD doesn't watch the town
Those who watch, stay awake in vain
Early you will rise in vain
And delay your rest again
You will eat the bread of pain
But his beloved has sleep from him
See the LORD our children grants
His reward, fruit of the womb
As arrows in a warrior's hand
So are children of one's youth
Oh how blessed is the man
With his quiver full of them
He will not be shamed although
In the gate he speaks with foes