Psalm 11

TO THE CHIEF MUSICIAN, A PSALM OF DAVID.

1 In the LORD put I my trust:

how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

2 For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string,

that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart.

3 If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

4 The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’S throne is in heaven:

his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

5 The LORD trieth the righteous:

but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

6 Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest:

this shall be the portion of their cup.

7 For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness;

his countenance doth behold the upright.

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