My son, if thou art become surety for thy neighbor,
If thou hast stricken thy hands for 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,
Seeing thou art come into the hand of thy neighbor:
Go, humble thyself, and importune thy neighbor;
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 chief,
Overseer, or ruler,
Provideth her bread 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 a robber,
And thy want as an armed man.
A worthless person, a man of iniquity,
Is he that walketh with a perverse mouth;
That winketh with his eyes, that speaketh with his feet,
That maketh signs with his fingers;
In whose heart is perverseness,
Who deviseth evil continually,
Who soweth discord.
Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly;
On a sudden shall he be broken, and that without remedy.