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you are here: > Psalms
> Chapter 11
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Chapter 11 | |
1. |
In the Lord put I my trust: how say you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain? |
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2. |
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. |
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3. |
If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do? |
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4. |
The Lord is in his holy temple, the Lord's throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men. |
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5. |
The Lord trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hates. |
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6. |
Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup. |
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7. |
For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance does behold the upright. | |
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