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PSALM 11. L.M.
God loves the righteous and abhors the wicked. (cont.)

6	The righteous Lord loves righteous souls, Whose thoughts and actions are sincere; And with a gracious eye beholds The men that his own image bear.

PSALM 12. First Part. L.M.
Safety and hope in evil times.

1	ALMIGHTY God, appear and save,    For vice and vanity prevail; The godly perish in the grave,    The just depart, the faithful fail.
2	The whole discourse, when neighbours meet, Is fill'd with trifles loose and vain; Their lips are flatt'ry and deceit, And their proud language is profane.
3	But lips that with deceit abound Shall not maintain their triumph long; The God of vengeance will confound The flatt'ring and blaspheming tongue.
4	"Yet shall our words be free," they cry; "Our tongues shall be control'd by none: "Where is the Lord will ask us why? "Or say, our lips are not our own."
5	The Lord, who sees the poor oppress'd, And hears th' oppressor's haughty strain, Will rise to give his children rest, Nor shall they trust his word in vain.
6	Thy word, O Lord, tho' often try'd, Void of deceit shall still appear; Not silver, sev'n times purify'd From dross and mixture, shines so clear.
7	Thy grace shall in the darkest hour Defend the holy soul from hard: Tho', when the vilest men have pow'r, On every side will sinners swarm.

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PSALM 12. Second Part. C.M.
The Lord will judge the wicked, and save his people.

1	LORD, when iniquities abound,    And blasphemy grows bold, When faith is hardly to be found,    And love is waxing cold:
2	Is not thy chariot hast'ning on?    Hast thou not giv'n the sign? May we not trust and live upon    A promise so divine?
3	"Now," saith the Lord, "Now will I rise,    And make oppressors flee; I will appear to their surprise,    "And set my servants free."
4	Thy word, like silver sev'n times try'd,    Thro' ages shall endure: The men that in thy truth confide    Shall find the promise sure.

PSALM 13. L.M.
Pleading with God under desertion.

1	HOW long, O Lord, shall I complain, Like one that seeks his God in vain? Wilt thou thy face for ever hide? Shall I still pray and be deni'd?
2	Shall I for ever be forgot, As one whom thou regardest not? Still shall my soul thine absence mourn? And still despair of thy return?
3	How long shall my poor troubl'd breast Be with these anxious thoughts opprest, And satan, my malicious foe. Rejoice to see me sunk so low?
4	Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief, Before my death conclude my grief;