1 To victory, on the pressers. The psalm of the sons of Korah. Lord of virtues, thy tabernacles be greatly loved; (For the choirmaster, on the gittith, a song by the Korahites. Lord of hosts, how greatly loved be thy tabernacles or how beautiful is thy dwelling place;)
2 my soul coveteth, and faileth into the porches of the Lord. Mine heart, and my flesh; full out joyed into quick God. (my soul desireth, and longeth for, the courtyards of the Lord’s Temple. My heart, and my flesh, rejoiced in the living God.)
3 For why a sparrow findeth an house to itself; and a turtle(dove) findeth a nest to itself, where it shall keep his birds. Lord of virtues, thine altars; my king, and my God. (For there a sparrow findeth a house for itself; and a turtledove findeth a nest for itself, where it shall keep its young. Yea, beside thy altars, Lord of hosts; my King, and my God.)
4 Lord, blessed be they that dwell in thine house; they shall praise thee into the worlds of worlds. (Lord, happy be those who live in thy House; they shall praise thee forever.)
5 Blessed is the man, whose help is of thee; he hath ordained (thy) goings in his heart, (Happy be those whose help is in thee or whose strength is in thee; they have ordained thy ways in their hearts.)