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.