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Psalm 127

A Song of degrees for Solomon.

8,6,8,6

1Except 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.

3Lo, children are God’s heritage,

the womb’s fruit his reward.

4The sons of youth as arrows are,

for strong men’s hands prepar’d.

5O happy is the man that hath

his quiver fill’d with those;

They unashamed in the gate

shall speak unto their foes.

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