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,
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Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own;
who [is] lord over us?'
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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.
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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!