1 To the Chief Musician. On an eight-stringed harp. A Psalm of David. 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.
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