Psalms 12

1 “To the chief musician upon Sheminith, a psalm of David.” Help, O Lord; for the pious have ceased to be; for the truthful have failed from among the children of 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 Deceptively do they speak every one with his neighbor, with flattering lips, with a double heart do they speak.

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, the tongue that speaketh boastful things:

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

4 Who have said, With our tongue will we be mighty; our lips are with us; who is Lord over us!

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

5 Because of the oppression of the poor, because of the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Lord: I will grant safety to him for whom the other layeth a snare.

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 pure words, as silver refined in the crucible of earth, purified seven times.

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

7 Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve them; thou wilt guard them from this generation for ever.

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

8 On every side do the wicked walk about, when the vile are exalted over the sons of man.

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