To the Chief Musician. On [a]an eight-stringed harp. A Psalm of David.
1 Help,[b] Lord, for the godly man ceases!
For the faithful disappear from among the sons of men.
With flattering lips and [c]a double heart they speak.
And the tongue that speaks [e]proud things,
“With our tongue we will prevail;
Our lips are our own;
Who is lord over us?”
Now I will arise,” says the Lord;
“I will set him in the safety for which he yearns.”
Like silver tried in a furnace of earth,
Purified seven times.
You shall preserve them from this generation forever.
When vileness is exalted among the sons of men.