My son, if thou be surety for thy friend,
If thou hast stricken thy hand with a stranger,
Thou art snared with the words of thy mouth,
Thou art taken with the words of thy mouth.
Do this now, my son, and deliver thyself,
When thou art come into the hand of thy friend;
Go, humble thyself, and make sure thy friend.
Give not sleep to thine eyes,
Nor slumber to thine eyelids.
Deliver thyself as a roe from the hand of the hunter,
And as a bird from the hand of the fowler.
Go to the ant, thou sluggard;
Consider her ways, and be wise:
Which having no guide,
Overseer, or ruler,
Provideth her meat in the summer,
And gathereth her food in the harvest.
How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard?
When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?
Yet a little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to sleep:
So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth,
And thy want as an armed man.
A naughty person, a wicked man,
Walketh with a froward mouth.
He winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet,
He teacheth with his fingers;
Frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually;
He soweth discord.
Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly;
Suddenly shall he be broken without remedy.
These six things doth the LORD hate:
Yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
A proud look, a lying tongue,
And hands that shed innocent blood,
An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations,
Feet that be swift in running to mischief,
A false witness that speaketh lies,
And he that soweth discord among brethren.
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