Psalms 12:1-8

• [Psa 12:1] Help, Lord, For Those Who Love Thee Fail

  Help, Lord, for those who love Thee fail, Thy faithful ones fall from the ranks, And leave the liars to their tale, False gratitude and treacherous thanks. Lord, may those flattering lips be lashed, The boasting mouths stripped of their pride, Those tongues that murmur unabashed, Who is this God? We shall abide! “Because the poor have been oppressed, And in their patience sigh alone, I will protect them in My breast,” The Lord has said, “These are Mine own.” And what He saith is purified Like silver, sevenfold assayed. Though by this evil age defied, His Word of truth shall be obeyed. His promises shall stand secure, His saints are safe, though ill betide, He will protect His humble poor, Though rogues are honored far and wide.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Psa 12:1] Lord, If Thou Dost Not Soon Appear

  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 neighbors meet, Is filled 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 tongues shall be controlled by none: Where is the Lord will ask us why? Or say our lips are not our own?” The Lord, who sees the poor oppressed, 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, though often tried, Void of deceit shall still appear; Not silver, seven times purified, From dross, and mixture, shines so clear. Thy grace shall in the darkest hour Defend the holy soul from harm; Though when the vilest men have power, On every side will sinners swarm.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Psa 12:1] O Lord, Be Thou My Helper True

  O Lord, be Thou my Helper true, For just and godly men are few; The faithful who can find? From truth and wisdom men depart, With flattering lips and double heart, They speak their evil mind. The lips that speak, the truth to hide, The tongues of arrogance and pride, That boastful words employ, False speaking tongues that boast their might, That own no law, that know no right, Jehovah will destroy. Because the poor are sore oppressed, Because the needy are distressed, And bitter are their cries, The Lord will be their Helper strong; To save them from contempt and wrong Jehovah will arise. Jehovah’s promises are sure, His words are true, His words are pure As silver from the flame. Though base men walk on every side, His saints are safe, whate’er betide, Protected by His Name.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Psa 12:1] O Lord, Look Down From Heaven

  O Lord, look down from Heaven, behold And let Thy pity waken: How few are we within Thy fold, Thy saints by men forsaken! True faith seems quenched on every hand, Men suffer not Thy Word to stand; Dark times have us o’ertaken. With fraud which they themselves invent Thy truth they have confounded; Their hearts are not with one consent On Thy pure doctrine grounded. While they parade with outward show, They lead the people to and fro, In error’s maze astounded. May God root out all heresy And of false teachers rid us Who proudly say: “Now, where is he That shall our speech forbid us? By right or might we shall prevail; What we determine cannot fail; We own no lord and master.” Therefore saith God, “I must arise, The poor My help are needing; To Me ascend My people’s cries, And I have heard their pleading. For them My saving Word shall fight And fearlessly and sharply smite, The poor with might defending.” As silver tried by fire is pure From all adulteration, So through God’s Word shall men endure Each trial and temptation. Its light beams brighter through the cross, And, purified from human dross, It shines through every nation. Thy truth defend, O God, and stay This evil generation; And from the error of their way Keep Thine own congregation. The wicked everywhere abound And would Thy little flock confound; But Thou art our Salvation.

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  source: Cyberhymnal