Place your trust in the Eternal; rely on Him completely; never depend upon your own ideas and inventions.
Help me, O Eternal One, for I can’t find anyone who follows You. The faithful have fallen out of sight. Everyone tells lies through sweet-talking lips and speaks from a hollow and deceptive heart.
May the Eternal silence all sweet-talking lips, stop all boasting tongues, Of those who say, “With our words we will win; our lips are our own. Who is the master of our souls?”
“I will rise up,” says the Eternal, “because the poor are being trampled, and the needy groan for My saving help. I will lift them up to the safety they long for.” The promises of the Eternal, they are true, they are pure— like silver refined in a furnace, purified seven times, they will be without impurity.
You, O Eternal, will be their protector. You will keep them safe from those around them forever. All around, those who are wicked parade—proud and arrogant—and people applaud their emptiness.