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