Psalms 11
1[To the chief Musician, {A Psalm} of David.] In the LORD put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee {as} a bird to your mountain?
2For, lo, the wicked bend {their} bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart. {privily: Heb. in darkness}
3If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
4The LORD {is} in his holy temple, the LORD'S throne {is} in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.
5The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.
6Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: {this shall be} the portion of their cup. {an horrible...: or, a burning tempest}
7For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.