For there is no stability in their mouth. Their heart is mischiefs, An open grave is their throat, Their tongue they make smooth.

I have been dumb, I open not my mouth, Because Thou -- Thou hast done it.

I incline to a simile mine ear, I open with a harp my riddle:

O Lord, my lips thou dost open, And my mouth declareth Thy praise.

I open with a simile my mouth, I bring forth hidden things of old,

Open ye to me gates of righteousness, I enter into them -- I thank Jah.

Thou dost give to them -- they gather, Thou dost open Thy hand -- they are satisfied with good.