Psalms 11
Psalms chapter 11 from the American Standard Version (1901)
1 For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In Jehovah do I take refuge: How say ye to my soul, Fleeasa 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.
