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:

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

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

Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips <FI>are<Fi> our own; who <FI>is<Fi> lord over us?'

Because of the spoiling of the poor, Because of the groaning of the needy, Now do I arise, saith Jehovah, I set in safety <FI>him who<Fi> doth breathe for it.

Sayings of Jehovah <FI>are<Fi> pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.

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

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