If the LORD doesn't build the house Those who labor work in vain If the LORD doesn't watch the town Those who watch, stay awake in vain Early you will rise in vain And delay your rest again You will eat the bread of pain But his beloved has sleep from him See the LORD our children grants His reward, fruit of the womb As arrows in a warrior's hand So are children of one's youth Oh how blessed is the man With his quiver full of them He will not be shamed although In the gate he speaks with foes