For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.
1Help, Lord; for the godly man ceases.
For the faithful fail from among the children of men.
2Everyone lies to his neighbor.
They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.
3May the Lord cut off all flattering lips,
and the tongue that boasts,
4who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail.
Our lips are our own.
Who is lord over us?”
5“Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy,
I will now arise,” says the Lord;
“I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”
6The Lord’s words are flawless words,
as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.
7You will keep them, Lord.
You will preserve them from this generation forever.
8The wicked walk on every side,
when what is vile is exalted among the sons of men.
1In finem, pro octava. Psalmus David.
2Salvum me fac, Domine, quoniam defecit sanctus, quoniam diminutæ sunt veritates a filiis hominum. 3Vana locuti sunt unusquisque ad proximum suum; labia dolosa, in corde et corde locuti sunt. 4Disperdat Dominus universa labia dolosa, et linguam magniloquam. 5Qui dixerunt: Linguam nostram magnificabimus; labia nostra a nobis sunt. Quis noster dominus est? 6Propter miseriam inopum, et gemitum pauperum, nunc exsurgam, dicit Dominus. Ponam in salutari; fiducialiter agam in eo. 7Eloquia Domini, eloquia casta; argentum igne examinatum, probatum terræ, purgatum septuplum. 8Tu, Domine, servabis nos, et custodies nos a generatione hac in æternum. 9In circuitu impii ambulant: secundum altitudinem tuam multiplicasti filios hominum.