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Psalms 12

    To the Chief Musician. On an eight-stringed harp.[1] A Psalm of David.
  1. Help, LORD, for the godly man ceases! For the faithful disappear from among the sons of men.
  2. They speak idly everyone with his neighbor; With flattering lips and a double heart they speak.
  3. May the LORD cut off all flattering lips, And the tongue that speaks proud things,
  4. Who have said, "With our tongue we will prevail; Our lips are our own; Who is lord over us?"
  5. "For the oppression of the poor, for the sighing of the needy, Now I will arise," says the LORD; "I will set him in the safety for which he yearns."
  6. The words of the LORD are pure words, Like silver tried in a furnace of earth, Purified seven times.
  7. You shall keep them, O LORD, You shall preserve them from this generation forever.
  8. The wicked prowl on every side, When vileness is exalted among the sons of men.
  1. Hebrew 'sheminith'

 

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