Psalms 11

1 Unto the end. A psalm for David. In the Lord I put my trust: how then do you say to my soul: Get thee away from hence to the mountain like a sparrow?

In the LORD put I my trust: how say all of you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

2 For, lo, the wicked have bent their bow; they have prepared their arrows in the quiver; to shoot in the dark the upright of heart.

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

3 For they have destroyed the things which thou hast made: but what has the just man done?

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 look on the poor man: his eyelids examine the sons of men.

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 just and the wicked: but he that loveth iniquity hateth his own soul.

The LORD tries the righteous: but the wicked and him that loves violence his soul hates.

6 He shall rain snares upon sinners: fire and brimstone and storms of winds shall be the portion of their cup.

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 Lord is just, and hath loved justice: his countenance hath beheld righteousness.

For the righteous LORD loves righteousness; his countenance does behold the upright.