UNTO the end, for the winepresses, a psalm for the sons of Core.

2 How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! 3 my soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God.

4 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.

5 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, O Lord: they shall praise thee for ever and ever. 6 Blessed is the man whose help is from thee: in his heart he hath disposed to ascend by steps,

7 in the vale of tears, in the place which he hath set.

8 For the lawgiver shall give a blessing, they shall go from virtue to virtue: the God of gods shall be seen in Sion.

9 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.

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Spiritus Sanctus
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Satan
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