Psalm 11.
To the chief musician.
A Psalm of David.
And the Lord put I, my trust.
How stay to myself, flee as a bird to your mountain.
For lo the wicked bend their bow.
They make ready their arrow upon the string.
They may privilege shoot at the upright in heart.
If the foundation to 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 tried the children of men.
The Lord try at the righteous, but the wicked and him that
loveth violence, his soul Hadith.
Upon the wicked.
He shall reign snares, fire and brimstone in the horrible Tempest.
This shall be the portion of their cup.
For the righteous floor.
Loveth righteousness.
His countenance death, behold, the upright.