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Unto the end, for the winepresses, a psalm for the sons of Core.
How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of host!
My soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God.
For the sparrow hath found herself a house, and the turtle a nest for herself where she may lay her young ones: Thy altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God.
Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, O Lord: they shall praise thee for ever and ever.
Blessed is the man whose help is from thee: in his heart he hath disposed to ascend by steps,
In the vale of tears, in the place which be hath set.
For the lawgiver shall give a blessing, they shall go from virtue to virtue: the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.
O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer: give ear, O God of Jacob.
10 Behold, O God our protector: and look on the face of thy Christ.
11 For better is one day in thy courts above thousands. I have chosen to be an abject in the house of my God, rather than to dwell in the tabernacles of sinners.
12 For God loveth mercy and truth: the Lord will give grace and glory.
13 He will not deprive of good things them that walk in innocence: O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.