A gradual canticle. In my trouble I cried to the Lord: and he heard me.

2 O Lord, deliver my soul from wicked lips, and a deceitful tongue.

3 What shall be given to thee, or what shall be added to thee, to a deceitful tongue?

4 The sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals that lay waste.

5 Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged! I have dwelt with the inhabitants of cedar:

6 my soul hath been long a sojourner. 7 With them that hated peace I was peaceable: when I spoke to them they fought against me without cause.

Father
Son
Holy Spirit
Angels
Satan
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