1. Unless the LORD will build the house, / Its builders toil in use less pain; / The city’s keepers watch in vain / Unless the LORD its cause espouse. / No enterprise can have success / Unless the LORD decides to bless.
2. ‘Tis vain to waken in the dark / To start one’s daily enterprise / And slave till night to realize / One’s sustenance by endless work. / For God His gifts on us will heap: / To His beloved He gives sleep.
3. Lo, sons are precious gifts from Him, / The body’s fruit His blest reward. / The sons of youth like arrows guard / The man whose quiver’s full of them. / He shall be mighty in the gate: / No foes shall enter his estate. / Dewey Westra, 1961