Psalm 127

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.

Lo, children are God's heritage,

the womb's fruit his reward.

The sons of youth as arrows are,

for strong men's hands prepar'd.

O happy is the man that hath

his quiver fill'd with those;

They unashamed in the gate

shall speak unto their foes.