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 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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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