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¹ To the chief musician, on eight. A Psalm of David. Help, O Jehovah, for the godly ceases to be; for the faithful fail from among the sons of men.² They speak vanity, each man with his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak.³ Jehovah shall cut off all with flattering lips and the tongue that speaks great things;⁴ who say, We shall be strong by our tongue; our lips are our own; who is lord over us?⁵ For the pain of the poor, for the sighing of the needy, I will now rise up, says Jehovah; I will set in safety; he pants for it.⁶ The Words of Jehovah are pure Words, like silver refined in an earthen furnace, purified seven times.⁷ You shall keep them, O Jehovah; You shall preserve them from this generation forever.⁸ The wicked walk around on every side, when vileness is exalted by the sons of men.