Thy wife shall as a fruitful vine by thy house' sides be found: Thy children like to olive-plants about thy table round.
But I am in the house of God like to an olive green: My confidence for ever hath upon God's mercy been.
That, as the plants, our sons may be in youth grown up that are; Our daughters like to corner-stones, carv'd like a palace fair.
O happy is the man that hath his quiver fill'd with those; They unashamed in the gate shall speak unto their foes.
Lo, children are God's heritage, the womb's fruit his reward.