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Unto the end; for the octave, a psalm for David.
Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men.
They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips, and with a double heart have they spoken.
May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things.
Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?
By reason of the misery of the needy, and the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord. I win set him in safety; I will deal confidently in his regard.
The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times.
Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever.
The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou best multiplied the children of men.
About CSB. A personal translation of the New Testament, rendered directly from the public-domain Greek in a literary style — not a scholarly critical edition, and not for liturgical or doctrinal authority. It is one reader's work, offered for enjoyment; where it matters, weigh it against an established translation. (Placeholder text — final wording to come.)