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| 1. | For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David. |
| 2. | Help, Yahweh; for the godly man ceases. For the faithful fail from among the children of men. |
| 3. | Everyone lies to his neighbor. With flattering lips, and with a double heart, do they speak. |
| 4. | May Yahweh cut off all flattering lips, And the tongue that boasts, |
| 5. | Who have said, "With our tongue will we prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?" |
| 6. | "Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise," says Yahweh; "I will set him in safety from those who malign him." |
| 7. | The words of Yahweh are flawless words, As silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times. |
| 8. | You will keep them, Yahweh, You will preserve them from this generation forever. |
| 9. | The wicked walk on every side, When what is vile is exalted among the sons of men. |