Psalm 127 - John Michael Talbot, The Monks of Little Portion Hermitage

May the Lord build our house

And guard our city

If the Lord does not build the house

In vain do its builders labour

If the Lord does not watch over the city

In vain does the watchman keep vigil

In vain is your earlier rising

Your going later to rest

You who toil for the bread you eat

When he pours gifts on his beloved while they slumber

Truly sons are a gift from the Lord

A blessing, the fruit of the womb

Indeed the sons of youth

Are like arrows in the hand of a warrior

O the happiness of the man

Who has filled his quiver with these arrows!

He will have no cause for shame

When he disputes with his foes in the gateways

Glory to the Father

And to the Son

And to the Holy Spirit

As it was in the beginning

Is now

And will be forever

Amen