2 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.

3 But lips, that with deceit abound, Shall not maintain their triumph long; The God of vengeance will confound The flattering and blaspheming tongue.

4 “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?”

5 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.

6 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.

7 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.

Psalm 12:2.  C. M.
Complaint of a general corruption of manners; or,
The promise and signs of Christ’s coming to judgment.

1 Help, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion loses ground,
The sons of violence prevail,
And treacheries abound.

2 Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatterer’s part;
With fair deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.

3 If we reprove some hateful lie,
How is their fury stirr’d! 
“Are not our lips our own” they cry,
“And who shall be our lord?”

4 Scoffers appear on every side,
Where a vile race of men
Is rais’d to seats of power and pride,
And bears the sword in vain.

Pause.

5 Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blasphemy grows bold,
When faith is hardly to be found,
And love is waxing cold,

6 Is not thy chariot hastening on? 
Hast thou not given this sign? 
May we not trust and live upon
A promise so divine?

7 “Yes,” saith the Lord, “now will I rise,
“And make oppressors flee;
“I shall appear to their surprise,
“And set my servants free.”

8 Thy word, like silver seven times try’d,
Thro’ ages shall endure;
The men that in thy truth confide,
Shall find thy promise sure.

Psalm 13:1.  L. M.
Pleading with God under desertion;
or, Hope, in darkness.

1 How long, 0 Lord, shall I complain
Like one that seeks his God in vain? 
Canst thou thy face for ever hide? 
And I still pray and be deny’d?

2 Shall I for ever be forgot As one whom thou regardest not?  Still shall my soul thine absence mourn?  And still despair of thy return?

3 How long shall my poor troubled breast Be with these anxious thoughts opprest?  And Satan, my malicious foe, Rejoice to see me sunk so low.

4 Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief,
Before my death conclude my grief;
If thou withhold thy heavenly light,
I sleep in everlasting night.