A song of degrees for Solomon.
1 IF God build not the house, vainly
who build it do take pain:
except the Lord the city keep,
the watchman wakes in vain.
2 It’s vain for you early to rise,
watch late, to feed upon
the bread of grief: so he gives sleep
to his beloved one.
3 Lo, the wombs of fruit, it’s Gods reward
sons are his heritage.
4 As arrows in a strong man’s hand,
are sons of youthful age.
5 O blessed is the man which hath
his quiver fill’d with those:
they shall not be asham’d, i'th gate
when they speak with their foes.