Psalms 11

1 To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David. In Jehovah have I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee [as] a bird to your mountain?

2 For behold, the wicked bend the bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may in darkness shoot at the upright in heart.

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

4 Jehovah [is] in the temple of his holiness; Jehovah, — his throne is in the heavens: his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.

5 Jehovah trieth the righteous one; but the wicked, and him that loveth violence, his soul hateth.

6 Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone; and scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup.

7 For righteous is Jehovah; he loveth righteousness, his countenance doth behold the upright.