Help, Lord, for wasted are those men
Which righteousness embrace
And rarely found that faithful are
But all the truth deface

Each to his neighbour falsehood speaks
And them seeks to beguile
With flattering lips, and double heart
When smoothest he doth smile

All flattering lips, the Lord our God
In justice will confound
And all proud tongues, that vaunt great things
He will bring to the ground

Our tongues say they shall lift us up
By them we shall prevail
Who should us let, or stop our course
That thereof we should fail?

For the destruction of the just
And such as be oppressed
And for the mournings of the poor
That likewise be distressed

I will rise up now, saith the Lord
And ease their grief and care
Of those which he full craftily
Hath drawn into his snare