| Chapter 11 |
1 |
For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In Jehovah do I take refuge: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain; |
2 |
For, lo, the wicked bend the bow, They make ready their arrow upon the string, That they may shoot in darkness at the upright in heart; |
3 |
If the foundations be destroyed, What can the righteous do? |
4 |
Jehovah is in his holy temple; Jehovah, his throne is in heaven; His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men. |
5 |
Jehovah trieth the righteous; But the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth. |
6 |
Upon the wicked he will rain snares; Fire and brimstone and burning wind shall be the portion of their cup. |
7 |
For Jehovah is righteous; he loveth righteousness: The upright shall behold his face. |