To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.1 In the LORD I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain? 2For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may secretly shoot at the upright in heart. ▼
▼privily: Heb. in darkness3If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do? 4The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’S throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men. 5The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth. 6Upon 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 tempest7For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance beholdeth the upright.
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