Psalms 12

1 [For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.] Help, Jehovah; for the faithful ceases. For the loyal have vanished from among the descendants of Adam.

To the victorie on the eiyte, the song of Dauid. Lord, make thou me saaf, for the hooli failide; for treuthis ben maad litle fro the sones of men.

2 Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.

Thei spaken veyn thingis, ech man to hys neiybore; thei han gileful lippis, thei spaken in herte and herte.

3 May Jehovah cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts,

The Lord destrie alle gileful lippis; and the greet spekynge tunge.

4 who have said, "With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?"

Whiche seiden, We schulen magnyfie oure tunge, our lippis ben of vs; who is oure lord?

5 "Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise," says Jehovah; "I will place in safety the one who longs for it."

For the wretchednesse of nedy men, and for the weilyng of pore men; now Y schal ryse vp, seith the Lord. I schal sette inhelt he; Y schal do tristili in hym.

6 The words of Jehovah are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.

The spechis of the Lord ben chast spechis; siluer examynyd bi fier, preued fro erthe, purgid seuen fold.

7 You, Jehovah, will protect us. You will guard us from this generation forever.

Thou, Lord, schalt kepe vs; and thou `schalt kepe vs fro this generacioun with outen ende.

8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the descendants of Adam.

Wickid men goen in cumpas; bi thin hiynesse thou hast multiplied the sones of men.