Psalm 11

To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David. 1In 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.