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| | 1 | A Song of Ascents. Of Solomon. Unless the LORD builds the house, They labor in vain who build it; Unless the LORD guards the city, The watchman stays awake in vain. | |
| | 2 | It is vain for you to rise up early, To sit up late, To eat the bread of sorrows; For so He gives His beloved sleep. | |
| | 3 | Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward. | |
| | 4 | Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one's youth. | |
| | 5 | Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them; They shall not be ashamed, But shall speak with their enemies in the gate. | |
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