How lovely is Your dwelling place,
Lord of Hosts.
I long and yearn for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and flesh cry out
for the living God.
Even a sparrow finds a home,
and a swallow, a nest for herself
where she places her young -
near Your altars, Lord of Hosts,
my King and my God.
How happy are those who reside
in Your house,
who praise You continually.
Happy are the people whose strength
is in You,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a source of springwater;
even the autumn rain will cover it
with blessings.
They go from strength to strength;
each appears before God in Zion.
Lord God of Hosts, hear my prayer;
listen, God of Jacob.
Consider our shield, God;
look on the face
of Your anointed one.
Better a day in Your courts
than a thousand anywhere else.
I would rather be at the door
of the house of my God
than to live in the tents
of the wicked people.
For the Lord God is a sun and a shield.
The Lord gives grace and glory;
He does not withhold the good
from those who live with integrity.
Happy is the person who trusts in You,
Lord of Hosts!
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To each is given a bag of tools,
A shapeless mass, and a book of rules,
And each must make, ere life is flown,
A stumbling block or a stepping stone.
-Anonymous-