Only Version ❧ CM/CMD · 8·6·8·6 (D)
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.