1 Help, Lord, because the godly man doth daily fade away; And from among the sons of men the faithful do decay. 2 Unto his neighbor ev'ry one doth utter vanity: They with a double heart do speak, and lips of flattery. 3 God shall cut off all flatt'ring lips, tongues that speak proudly thus, 4 We'll with our tongue prevail, our lips are ours: who's lord o'er us? 5 For poor oppressed, and for the sighs of needy, rise will I, Saith God, and him in safety set from such as him defy. 6 The words of God are words most pure; they be like silver tried In earthen furnace, seven times that hath been purified. 7 Lord, thou shalt them preserve and keep for ever from this race. 8 On each side walk the wicked, when vile men are high in place.