Unless the Lord the house shall build
The weary builders toil in vain
Unless the Lord the city shield
The guards a useless watch maintain

In vain you rise ere morning break
And late your nightly vigils keep
And all the bread of toil partake
God gives to his beloveds sleep

Lo, children are the gift of God
And sons the blessing he commands
These whom in youthful days bestowed
Are like the shafts in warrior's hands

And happy they whose quivers bear
Full store of arrows such as these
They in the gate are free from fear
And boldly face their enemies