[1]To the Overseer, on the octave. -- A Psalm of David. Save, Jehovah, for the saintly hath failed, For the stedfast have ceased From the sons of men:[2]Vanity they speak each with his neighbour, Lip of flattery! With heart and heart they speak.[3]Jehovah doth cut off all lips of flattery, A tongue speaking great things,[4]Who said, `By our tongue we do mightily: Our lips [are] our own; who [is] lord over us?'[5]Because of the spoiling of the poor, Because of the groaning of the needy, Now do I arise, saith Jehovah, I set in safety [him who] doth breathe for it.[6]Sayings of Jehovah [are] pure sayings; Silver tried in a furnace of earth refined sevenfold.[7]Thou, O Jehovah, dost preserve them, Thou keepest us from this generation to the age.[8]Around the wicked walk continually, According as vileness is exalted by sons of men!