Psalms 12

1 For the choirmaster. According to Sheminith. A Psalm of David. Help, O LORD, for the godly are no more; the faithful have vanished from among men.

Unto the end; for the octave, a psalm for David. Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.

2 They lie to one another; they speak with flattering lips and a double heart.

They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips, and with a double heart have they spoken.

3 May the LORD cut off all flattering lips and every boastful tongue.

May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.

4 They say, “With our tongues we will prevail. We own our lips—who can be our master?”

Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?

5 “For the cause of the oppressed and for the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says the LORD. “I will bring safety to him who yearns.”

By reason of the misery of the needy, and the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord. I win set him in safety; I will deal confidently in his regard.

6 The words of the LORD are flawless, like silver refined in a furnace, like gold purified sevenfold.

The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times.

7 You, O LORD, will keep us; You will forever guard us from this generation.

Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.

8 The wicked wander freely, and vileness is exalted among men.

The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou best multiplied the children of men.