A song of degrees.
1 Unto the Lord, in my distress
I cry’d, and he heard me.
2 From lying lips and guileful tongue,
o Lord, my soul set free.
3 What shall thy false tongue give to thee,
or what on thee confer?
4 Sharp arrows of the mighty ones,
with coals of juniper.
5 Woe’s me, that I in Mesech do
a sojourner remain:
that I do dwell in tents, which do
to Kedar appertain.
6 Long time my soul hath dwelt with him
that peace doth much abhor,
7 I am for peace, but when I speak,
they ready are for war.