Psalms 127

A Song of Ascents, of Solomon.

¹Unless the Lord builds a house, They who build it labor in vain; Unless the Lord guards a city, The watchman stays awake in vain. ²It is futile for you to rise up early, To stay up late, To eat the bread of painful labor; This is how He gives to His beloved sleep. ³¶Behold, children are a gift of the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward. ⁴Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one’s youth. ⁵Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them; They will not be ashamed When they speak with their enemies in the gate.