Let your speech be always with grace,
seasoned with salt.
Colossians 4:6
There's no weapon so destructive
In the armoury of life,
Nor a poison half so potent
As the little tongue of strife.
Ships are guided by small rudder,
Bit and bridle turn a horse,
But this active, boasting member
E'en can change a nation's course!
Man subdued the roaring lion,
And controlled the stubborn ass,
Yet the tongue is still unconquered,
Hasty, overbold, and rash.
Can the same fount, clear as crystal,
Send forth streams both salt and sweet?
Words of blessing, words distressing,
From the same lips often meet!
Idle talk reveals a secret
Love's discretion would conceal;
Hidden thoughts and ruling passions,
Clothed with words, the heart reveal.
Tongues unhealthy, furred with gossip,
Spread with relish rumours wild;
Speaker, hearer, and the victim
Are affected and defiled.
If our words in heav'n recorded
Were replayed to greet our ears,
What would be our swift reaction?
Joy or sorrow, smiles or tears?
O the sweetness of God's pardon
When confession's voice is heard!
Then erased will be the record
Of each vain and useless word.
Let sound speech be ever seasoned
With the salt of faithfulness:
Grace and truth in even balance,
Blended with meek gentleness.
Words that magnify the Saviour,
Words in season, 0 how good!
Then the tongue, a pow'r for Nessing,
Will be sanctified for God.
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