Psalms 11
11
PSALM 11.
1Unto the end, for the octave, a psalm for David.
2Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.
3They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips and with a double heart have they spoken.
4May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.
5Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own. Who is Lord over us?
6By reason of the misery of the needy and the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord. I win set him in safety; I will deal confidently in his regard.
7The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times.
8Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.
9The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou hast multiplied the children of men.
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Psalms 11: DRC1752
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An historical text maintained by the British and Foreign Bible Society.