1 For the end, a Psalm for the sons of Core, concerning the wine-presses.
2 How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts !
3 My soul longs, and faints for the courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh have exulted in the living God.
4 Yea, the sparrow has found himself a home, and the turtle-dove a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
5 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house : they will praise thee evermore. Pause.
6 Blessed is the man whose help is of thee, O Lord ; in his heart he has purposed to go up
7 the valley of weeping, to the place which he has appointed, for there the law-giver will grant blessings.
8 They shall go from strength to strength : the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.
9 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer : hearken, O God of Jacob. Pause.
10 Behold, O God our defender, and look upon the face of thine anointed.
11 For one day in thy courts is better than thousands. I would rather be an abject in the house of God, than dwell in the tents of sinners.
12 For the Lord loves mercy and truth : God will give grace and glory : the Lord will not withhold good things from them that walk in innocence.
13 O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusts in thee.