I cried to God in my dis­tress,
And by the Lord my pray­er was heard;
O save me, Lord, from ly­ing lips
And from the false, de­ceit­ful word.

What woe for false­hood can atone,
Or pun­ish the de­ceit­ful tongue,
The tongue whose speech con­sumes like fire,
Whose words like dead­ly shafts are flung?

Alas for me, whose lot is cast
With those who find their joy in strife!
With those who hate the paths of peace
I long have dwelt and spent my life.

In thought and act I am for peace,
Peace I pur­sue and ev­er seek;
But those about me are for strife,
Though I in love and kind­ness speak.