Psalms 11

1 To the victorie of Dauid. I triste in the Lord; hou seien ye to my soule, Passe thou ouere in to an hil, as a sparowe doith?

To him that excelleth. A Psalme of Dauid. In the Lord put I my trust: howe say yee then to my soule, Flee to your mountaine as a birde?

2 For lo! synneris han bent a bouwe; thei han maad redi her arowis in an arowe caas; `for to schete in derknesse riytful men in herte.

For loe, the wicked bende their bowe, and make readie their arrowes vpon the string, that they may secretly shoote at them, which are vpright in heart.

3 For thei han distryed, whom thou hast maad perfit; but what dide the riytful man?

For the foundations are cast downe: what hath the righteous done?

4 The Lord is in his hooli temple; he is Lord, his seete is in heuene. Hise iyen biholden on a pore man; hise iyelidis axen the sones of men.

The Lord is in his holy palace: the Lordes throne is in the heauen: his eyes wil consider: his eye lids will try the children of men.

5 The Lord axith a iust man, and vnfeithful man; but he, that loueth wickidnesse, hatith his soule.

The Lord will try the righteous: but the wicked and him that loueth iniquitie, doeth his soule hate.

6 He schal reyne snaris on `synful men; fier, brymston, and the spirit of tempestis ben the part of the cuppe of hem.

Vpon the wicked he shall raine snares, fire, and brimstone, and stormie tempest: this is the porcion of their cup.

7 For the Lord is riytful, and louede riytfulnessis; his cheer siy equite, `ethir euennesse.

For the righteous Lord loueth righteousnes: his countenance doeth beholde the iust.