Psalms 12

1 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.

“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.

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

Deceptively do they speak every one with his neighbor, with flattering lips, with a double heart do they speak.

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

May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that speaketh boastful things:

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

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

5 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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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