For the choir director; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. ¹ Help, LORD, for the godly man ceases to be,
For the faithful disappear from among the sons of men. ² They speak falsehood to one another;
With flattering lips and with a double heart they speak. ³ May the LORD cut off all flattering lips,
The tongue that speaks great things; ⁴ Who 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 afflicted, because of the groaning of the needy,
Now I will arise,” says the LORD; “I will set him in the safety for which he longs.” ⁶ The words of the LORD are pure words;
As silver tried in a furnace on the earth, refined seven times. ⁷ You, O LORD, will keep them;
You will preserve him from this generation forever. ⁸ The wicked strut about on every side
When vileness is exalted among the sons of men.