¶ To the Chanter upon Sheminith, a Psalm of David. Help LORD, for there is not one saint more: very few faithful are there among the children of men. Every man telleth lies to his neighbour, they do but flatter with their lips and dissemble in their heart. O that the LORD would root out all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things. Which said: our tongue should prevail: we are they that ought to speak, who is lord over us? Now for the trouble's sake of the oppressed, and because of the complaint of the poor, I will up (sayeth the LORD) I will help them, and set them at rest. The words of the LORD are pure words: even as the silver, which from the earth is tried and purified seven times in the fire. Keep them therefore (O LORD) and preserve us from this generation for ever. And why? when vanity and idleness getteth the overhand among the children of men, all are full of the ungodly.