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Psalms 120

 

 

Plea for Relief from Bitter Foes

A Song of Ascents.

In my distress I cried to the Lord,
And He heard me.
Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips
And from a deceitful tongue.
What shall be given to you,
Or what shall be done to you,
You false tongue?
Sharp arrows of the [a]warrior,
With coals of the broom tree!
Woe is me, that I dwell in Meshech,
That I dwell among the tents of Kedar!
My soul has dwelt too long
With one who hates peace.
I am for peace;
But when I speak, they are for war.

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