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¹ To him that excelleth vpon the eight tune. A Psalme of Dauid. Helpe Lord, for there is not a godly man left: for the faithfull are fayled from among the children of men.² They speake deceitfully euery one with his neighbour, flattering with their lips, and speake with a double heart.³ The Lorde cut off all flattering lippes, and the tongue that speaketh proude things:⁴ Which haue saide, With our tongue will we preuaile: our lippes are our owne: who is Lord ouer vs?⁵ Now for the oppression of the needy, and for the sighes of the poore, I will vp, sayeth the Lord, and will set at libertie him, whom the wicked hath snared.⁶ The wordes of the Lorde are pure wordes, as the siluer, tried in a fornace of earth, fined seuen folde.⁷ Thou wilt keepe them, O Lord: thou wilt preserue him from this generation for euer.⁸ The wicked walke on euery side: when they are exalted, it is a shame for the sonnes of men.