A song of degrees. I called vnto the Lorde in my trouble, and hee heard me.

Deliuer my soule, O Lord, from lying lippes, and from a deceitfull tongue.

What doeth thy deceitfull tongue bring vnto thee? or what doeth it auaile thee?

It is as the sharpe arrowes of a mightie man, and as the coales of iuniper.

Woe is to me that I remaine in Meschech, and dwell in the tentes of Kedar.

My soule hath too long dwelt with him that hateth peace.

I seeke peace, and when I speake thereof, they are bent to warre.