PS 12:1 To the Overseer, on the octave. -- A Psalm of David. Save, Jehovah, for the saintly hath failed, For the stedfast have ceased From the sons of men:
PS 12:2 Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak.
PS 12:3 Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things,
PS 12:4 Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips `are' our own; who `is' lord over us?'
PS 12:5 Because of the spoiling of the poor, Because of the groaning of the needy, Now do I arise, saith Jehovah, I set in safety `him who' doth breathe for it.
PS 12:6 Sayings of Jehovah `are' pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.
PS 12:7 Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age.
PS 12:8 Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!