Psalms 12
For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. 1 Help, Yehovah; for the godly man ceases.
For the faithful fail from among the children of men.
2 Everyone lies to his neighbor.
They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart.
3 May Yehovah cut off all flattering lips,
and the tongue that boasts,
4 who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail.
Our lips are our own.
Who is master over us?”
5 “Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy,
I will now arise,” says Yehovah;
“I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”
6 Yehovah’s words are flawless words,
as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times.
7 You will keep them, Yehovah.
You will preserve them from this generation to a distant age.
8 The wicked walk on every side,
when what is vile is exalted among the sons of men.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150