Wisdom in an out-place crieth aloud, In broad places she giveth forth her voice,

At the head of the multitudes she calleth, In the openings of the gates, In the city her sayings she saith:

If thou dost seek her as silver, And as hid treasures searchest for her,

To deliver thee from the strange woman, From the stranger who hath made smooth her sayings,

Who is forsaking the guide of her youth, And the covenant of her God hath forgotten.

For her house hath inclined unto death, And unto Rephaim her paths.

None going in unto her turn back, Nor do they reach the paths of life.

For better is her merchandise Than the merchandise of silver, And than gold -- her increase.

Precious she is above rubies, And all thy pleasures are not comparable to her.

Length of days is in her right hand, In her left are wealth and honour.

Her ways are ways of pleasantness, And all her paths are peace.

A tree of life she is to those laying hold on her, And whoso is retaining her is happy.

Forsake her not, and she doth preserve thee, Love her, and she doth keep thee.

Exalt her, and she doth lift thee up, She honoureth thee, when thou dost embrace her.

Lay hold on instruction, do not desist, Keep her, for she is thy life.

For the lips of a strange woman drop honey, And smoother than oil is her mouth,

And her latter end is bitter as wormwood, Sharp as a sword with mouths.

Her feet are going down to death, Sheol do her steps take hold of.

The path of life -- lest thou ponder, Moved have her paths -- thou knowest not.

Keep far from off her thy way, And come not near unto the opening of her house,

A hind of loves, and a roe of grace! Let her loves satisfy thee at all times, In her love magnify thyself continually.

Go unto the ant, O slothful one, See her ways and be wise;

She doth prepare in summer her bread, She hath gathered in harvest her food.

Desire not her beauty in thy heart, And let her not take thee with her eyelids.

So is he who hath gone in unto the wife of his neighbour, None who doth touch her is innocent.

To preserve thee from a strange woman, From a stranger who hath made smooth her sayings.

Passing on in the street, near her corner, And the way to her house he doth step,

Noisy she is, and stubborn, In her house her feet rest not.

And she laid hold on him, and kissed him, She hath hardened her face, and saith to him,

She turneth him aside with the abundance of her speech, With the flattery of her lips she forceth him.

He is going after her straightway, As an ox unto the slaughter he cometh, And as a fetter unto the chastisement of a fool,

Let not thy heart turn unto her ways, Do not wander in her paths,

For many are the wounded she caused to fall, And mighty are all her slain ones.

The ways of Sheol -- her house, Going down unto inner chambers of death!

Doth not wisdom call? And understanding give forth her voice?

Wisdom hath builded her house, She hath hewn out her pillars -- seven.

She hath slaughtered her slaughter, She hath mingled her wine, Yea, she hath arranged her table.

She hath sent forth her damsels, She crieth on the tops of the high places of the city:

And she hath sat at the opening of her house, On a throne -- the high places of the city,

And he hath not known that Rephaim are there, In deep places of Sheol her invited ones!

A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband, And as rottenness in his bones is one causing shame.

Every wise woman hath builded her house, And the foolish with her hands breaketh it down.

A provocation to his father is a foolish son, And bitterness to her that bare him.

The wrath of a king is a growl as of a young lion, And as dew on the herb his good-will.

As a bird wandering from her nest, So is a man wandering from his place.

Whoso is hiding her hath hidden the wind, And the ointment of his right hand calleth out.

So -- the way of an adulterous woman, She hath eaten and hath wiped her mouth, And hath said, 'I have not done iniquity.'

For a hated one when she ruleth, And a maid-servant when she succeedeth her mistress.

A woman of worth who doth find? Yea, far above rubies is her price.

The heart of her husband hath trusted in her, And spoil he lacketh not.

She hath done him good, and not evil, All days of her life.

She hath sought wool and flax, And with delight she worketh with her hands.

She hath been as ships of the merchant, From afar she bringeth in her bread.

Yea, she riseth while yet night, And giveth food to her household, And a portion to her damsels.

She hath considered a field, and taketh it, From the fruit of her hands she hath planted a vineyard.

She hath girded with might her loins, And doth strengthen her arms.

She hath perceived when her merchandise is good, Her lamp is not extinguished in the night.

Her hands she hath sent forth on a spindle, And her hands have held a distaff.

Her hand she hath spread forth to the poor, Yea, her hands she sent forth to the needy.

She is not afraid of her household from snow, For all her household are clothed with scarlet.

Ornamental coverings she hath made for herself, Silk and purple are her clothing.

Known in the gates is her husband, In his sitting with elders of the land.

Strength and honour are her clothing, And she rejoiceth at a latter day.

Her mouth she hath opened in wisdom, And the law of kindness is on her tongue.

She is watching the ways of her household, And bread of sloth she eateth not.

Her sons have risen up, and pronounce her happy, Her husband, and he praiseth her,

Give ye to her of the fruit of her hands, And her works do praise her in the gates!