§ The Book of Psalms 11

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

1 In finem, pro octava. Psalmus David.

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

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

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

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

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

4 Disperdat Dominus universa labia dolosa, et linguam magniloquam.

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

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

6 By 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.

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

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

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

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

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