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Psalm 12

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by the lyre.[a]

Help me, O Eternal One, for I can’t find anyone who follows You.
    The faithful have fallen out of sight.
Everyone tells lies through sweet-talking lips
    and speaks from a hollow and deceptive heart.

May the Eternal silence all sweet-talking lips,
    stop all boasting tongues,
Of those who say, “With our words we will win;
    our lips are our own. Who is the master of our souls?”

“I will rise up,” says the Eternal,
    “because the poor are being trampled, and the needy groan for My saving help.
    I will lift them up to the safety they long for.”
The promises of the Eternal, they are true, they are pure—
    like silver refined in a furnace,
    purified seven times, they will be without impurity.

You, O Eternal, will be their protector.
    You will keep them safe from those around them forever.
All around, those who are wicked parade—proud and arrogant—and people applaud their emptiness.


  1. 12:title Hebrew, sheminith, perhaps an eight-stringed instrument from a root meaning “eight”

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