Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it under his tongue;
Every day they wrest my words: all their thoughts are against me for evil.
Let the high praises of God be in their mouth, and a twoedged sword in their hand;
And I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, and her hands as bands: whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her; but the sinner shall be taken by her.
He hath filled me with bitterness, he hath made me drunken with wormwood.