1 My son, attend unto my wisdom; Incline thine ear to my understanding:
2 That thou mayest preserve discretion, And that thy lips may keep knowledge.
3 For the lips of a strange woman drop honey, And her mouth is smoother than oil:
4 But in the end she is bitter as wormwood, Sharp as a two-edged sword.
5 Her feet go down to death; Her steps take hold on Sheol;
6 So that she findeth not the level path of life: Her ways are unstable, `and' she knoweth `it' not.
7 Now therefore, `my' sons, hearken unto me, And depart not from the words of my mouth.
8 Remove thy way far from her, And come not nigh the door of her house;
9 Lest thou give thine honor unto others, And thy years unto the cruel;
10 Lest strangers be filled with thy strength, And thy labors `be' in the house of an alien,