Psalms 11

1 “To the chief musician, by David.” In the Lord have I put my trust: how can ye say to my soul, Flee to your mountain as a bird?

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?

2 For lo, the wicked bend their bow, they arrange their arrow upon the string, to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart.

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.

3 For [if] the foundations be torn down, what can the righteous do?

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

4 The Lord is in his holy temple, the Lord hath his throne in the heavens, his eyes behold, his eyelids prove, the children of men.

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.

5 The Lord proveth the righteous; but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

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

6 He letteth rain upon the wicked burning coals, fire and brimstone; and a glowing wind is the portion of their cup.

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

7 For righteous is the Lord, he loveth righteousness: his countenance doth behold the upright.

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