We build with fruitless toil and cost

1 We build with fruitless toil and cost,
Unless the Lord the pile sustain;
Unless the Lord the city keeps,
The watchman waketh but in vain.

2 In vain we rise before the dawn;
In vain we late to rest repair;
Allow no respite to our toil,
And daily eat the bread of care.

3 Supplies of life, with ease to them,
The Lord to all his saints bestows;
He crowns their labours with success,
Their nights with peace and soft repose.

4 Children, those comforts of our life,
Are presents from the bounteous Lord;
He gives a num'rous race of heirs,
Of piety the sweet reward.

5 As arrows in a giant's hand,
When marching forth, equipp'd for war,
Ev'n so the sons of sprightly youth
Their parents hopeful safeguard are.

5 Happy the man, whose quivers are
Replete with those prevailing arms!
He need not fear to meet his foe,
In strifes of law, or war's alarms.

Source: The Psalms of David: with hymns and spiritual songs: also, the catechism, confession of faith, and liturgy of the Reformed Church in the Netherlands #127