Psalm 120

IN my distresse unto the Lord,
I did complain and cry,
And he forthwith inclin'd to me,
and heard me graciously.
From lying lips, O Lord, my soul
deliver and set free,
From double and deceitful tongues,
O Lord, deliver mee.

What shall to thy false tongue be done?
or giv'n, thou slanderer?
Sharp arrows of the mighty man,
and coals of Juniper.
O woe is me! that I must thus
sojourn so long a space
In Mesech; and must dwell in tents
with Kedars cursed race,

With him that hateth peace, my soul
is forc'd long to abide.
For peace I am, but when I speak
for war they do provide.