PSALM 11.1 Unto the end, for the octave, a psalm for David. 2 Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint: truths are decayed from among the children of men. 3 They have spoken vain things every one to his neighbour: with deceitful lips and with a double heart have they spoken. 4 May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, and the tongue that speaketh proud things. 5 Who have said: We will magnify our tongue; our lips are our own. Who is Lord over us? 6 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. 7 The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth refined seven times. 8 Thou, O Lord, wilt preserve us: and keep us from this generation for ever. 9 The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou hast multiplied the children of men. |
An historical text. In 1955 the Douay-Rheims Challoner Bible received the Imprimatur ✠ of the English Catholic Church from the Archbishop of Westminster.
British & Foreign Bible Society