Psalms 11

1Unto the end: for the octave, a psalm for David.

In finem, pro octava. Psalmus David.

2Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.

Salvum me fac, Domine, quoniam defecit sanctus, quoniam diminutæ sunt veritates a filiis hominum.

3They have spoken vain things, every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips, and with a double heart have they spoken.

Vana locuti sunt unusquisque ad proximum suum; labia dolosa, in corde et corde locuti sunt.

4May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.

Disperdat Dominus universa labia dolosa, et linguam magniloquam.

5Who have said: We will magnify our tongue: our lips are our own: who is Lord over us?

Qui dixerunt: Linguam nostram magnificabimus; labia nostra a nobis sunt. Quis noster dominus est?

6By 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.

Propter miseriam inopum, et gemitum pauperum, nunc exsurgam, dicit Dominus. Ponam in salutari; fiducialiter agam in eo.

7The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth, refined seven times.

Eloquia Domini, eloquia casta; argentum igne examinatum, probatum terræ, purgatum septuplum.

8Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.

Tu, Domine, servabis nos, et custodies nos a generatione hac in æternum.

9The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou hast multiplied the children of men.

In circuitu impii ambulant: secundum altitudinem tuam multiplicasti filios hominum.