[A song of degrees.] In my distresse I cried vnto the Lord: and hee heard me.
Deliuer my soule, O Lord, from lying lips: and from a deceitfull tongue.
What shall be giuen vnto thee? or what shalbe done vnto thee, thou false tongue?
Sharpe arrowes of the mightie: with coales of iuniper.
Woe is me, that I soiourne in Mesech: that I dwell in the tents of Kedar.
My soule hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace.
I am for peace: but when I speak, they are for warre.