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