PSALM 12

To the choirmaster: according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.

1 Help, Lord; for there is no longer any that is godly;

for the faithful have vanished from among the sons of men.

2 Every one utters lies to his neighbor;

with flattering lips and a double heart they speak.

3 May the Lord cut off all flattering lips,

the tongue that makes great boasts,

4 those who say, “With our tongue we will prevail,

our lips are with us; who is our master?”

5 “Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan,

I will now arise,” says the Lord;

“I will place him in the safety for which he longs.”

6 The promises of the Lord are promises that are pure,

silver refined in a furnace on the ground,

purified seven times.

7 Do thou, O Lord, protect us,

guard us ever from this generation.

8 On every side the wicked prowl,

as vileness is exalted among the sons of men.