Psalms 11

1For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In Yahweh do I take refuge: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain;

2For, 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;

3If the foundations be destroyed, What can the righteous do?

4Yahweh is in his holy temple; Yahweh, his throne is in heaven; His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.

5Yahweh trieth the righteous; But the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

6Upon the wicked he will rain snares; Fire and brimstone and burning wind shall be the portion of their cup.

7For Yahweh is righteous; He loveth righteousness: The upright shall behold his face.