For the end, a Psalm for the sons of Core, concerning the wine-presses.
How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, and faints for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh have exulted in the living God. 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.
Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will praise thee evermore. Pause. Blessed is the man whose help is of thee, O Lord; in his heart he has purposed to go up the valley of weeping, to the place which he has appointed, for there the law-giver will grant blessings. They shall go from strength to strength: the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.
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.