O `tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wisdom’s way;
To fear a lye, to speak the truth,
That we may trust to all they say.
But lyars we can never trust,
Though they should speak the thing that’s true,
And he that does one fault at first,
And lyes to hide it, makes it two.
Have we not known, nor heard, nor read,
How God abhors deceit and wrong?
How Ananias was struck dead
Catch’d with a lye upon his tongue?
So did his wife Sapphira die
When she came in, and grew so bold
As to confirm that wicked lye
That just before her husband told.
The Lord delights in them that speak
The words of truth; but every lyar
Must have his portion in the lake
That burns with brimstone and with fire.
Then let me always watch my lips,
Lest I be struck to death and hell,
Since God a book of reckoning keeps
For every lye that children tell.