1For the end, a Psalm for the sons of Core, concerning the wine-presses.

2How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!

3My soul longs, and faints for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh have exulted in the living God.

4Yea, 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.

5Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will praise thee evermore. Pause.

6Blessed is the man whose help is of thee, O Lord; in his heart he has purposed to go up

7the valley of weeping, to the place which he has appointed, for there the law-giver will grant blessings.

8They shall go from strength to strength: the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.

9O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer: hearken, O God of Jacob. Pause.

10Behold, O God our defender, and look upon the face of thine anointed.

11For 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.

12For 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.

13O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusts in thee.