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83
(84) For the end, a Psalm for the sons of Core, concerning the wine presses.
1 How amiable are your tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!
2 My soul longs, and faints for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh have exulted in the living god.
3 Yes, the sparrow has found himself a home, and the turtle-dove a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
4 Blessed are they that dwell in your house: they will praise you evermore. Pause.
5 Blessed is the man whose help is of you, O Lord; in his heart he has purposed to go up
6 the valley of weeping, to the place which he has appointed, for there the law-giver will grant blessings.
7 They shall go from strength to strength: the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.
8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer: listen, O God of Jacob. Pause.
9 Behold, O God our defender, and look upon the face of your anointed.
10 For one day in your courts is better than thousands. I would rather be an abject in the house of God, than dwell in the tents of sinners.
11 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.
12 O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusts in you.

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