Psalms 11

[1] In the LORD put I my trust: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?
[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.
[3] If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
[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.
[5] The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.
[6] Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.
[7] For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.