[A song of high degrees.]
1
When I was in trouble I called vpon God: and he hearde me.
2
Deliuer my soule O God from false lyppes: & from a deceiptful tongue.
3
What doth a deceiptfull tongue vnto thee?
what good bryngeth it thee?
4
[So much] as sharpe arrowes of a strong man [in thy sydes:] with Iuniper coales [powred on thy head.]
5
Wo be vnto me that am constrayned to be conuersaunt in Mesech: and to dwell among the tentes of Cedar.
6
My soule hath dwelt long: with hym that hateth peace.
7
I [am a man] of peace: but because I do speake therof, they [prepare] them selues to battayle.