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Chapter 12

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:

12:2 Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak.

12:3 Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things,

12:4 Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips `are' our own; who `is' lord over us?'

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.

12:6 Sayings of Jehovah `are' pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.

12:7 Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age.

12:8 Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!

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