Psalms 11

PSALM 11.

To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.

In the  Lord put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain? For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart.
privily: Heb. in darkness
If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do? The  Lord is in his holy temple, the  Lord's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men. The  Lord trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth. Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.
an horrible…: or, a burning tempest
For the righteous  Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.
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