Psalm 12
God, a Helper against the Treacherous.
For the music director; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.
1Help, Lord, for the godly person has come to an end,
For the faithful have disappeared from the sons of mankind.
2They speak lies to one another;
They speak with flattering lips and a double heart.
3May the Lord cut off all flattering lips,
The tongue that speaks great things;
4Who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail;
Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?”
5“Because of the devastation of the poor, because of the groaning of the needy,
Now I will arise,” says the Lord; “I will put him in the safety for which he longs.”
6The words of the Lord are pure words;
Like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, filtered seven times.
7You, Lord, will keep them;
You will protect him from this generation forever.
8The wicked strut about on every side
When vileness is exalted among the sons of mankind.
