Psalm 12 (Version 1)

Lord, if thou dost not soon appear,

Virtue and truth will fly away;

A faithful man, amongst us here,

Will scarce be found if thou delay.

The whole discourse, when neighbours meet,

Is fill'd with trifles loose and vain;

Their lips are flattery and deceit,

And their proud language is profane.

But lips, that with deceit abound,

Shall not maintain their triumph long;

The God of vengeance will confound

The flattering and blaspheming tongue.

"Yet shall our words be free," they cry,

"Our tongue shall be controll'd by none:

"Where is the Lord will ask us why?

"Or say, our lips are not our own?"

The Lord who sees the poor opprest,

And hears th' oppressor's haughty strain,

Will rise to give his children rest,

Nor shall they trust his word in vain.

Thy word, O Lord, tho' often try'd,

Void of deceit shall still appear

Not silver, seven times purify'd

From dross and mixture, shines so clear.

Thy grace shall in the darkest hour

Defend the holy soul from harm;

Tho' when the vilest men have power

On every side will sinners swarm.