1. My son! if thou hast been surety for thy friend, Hast stricken for a stranger thy hand,
2. Hast been snared with sayings of thy mouth, Hast been captured with sayings of thy mouth,
3. Do this now, my son, and be delivered, For thou hast come into the hand of thy friend. Go, trample on thyself, and strengthen thy friend,
4. Give not sleep to thine eyes, And slumber to thine eyelids,
5. Be delivered as a roe from the hand, And as a bird from the hand of a fowler.
6. Go unto the ant, O slothful one, See her ways and be wise;
7. Which hath not captain, overseer, and ruler,
8. She doth prepare in summer her bread, She hath gathered in harvest her food.
9. Till when, O slothful one, dost thou lie? When dost thou arise from thy sleep?
10. A little sleep, a little slumber, A little clasping of the hands to rest,