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