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Chapter 12

1To 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: 2Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak. 3Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things, 4Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own; who [is] lord over us?` 5Because 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. 6Sayings of Jehovah [are] pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold. 7Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age. 8Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!

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