Psalms 11
1I put my trust in the Lord: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?2For, behold, the wicked bend their bow; they make ready their arrow upon the string that they may secretly shoot at the upright in heart.3The foundations shall be destroyed. What has the righteous done?
4The Lord is in the temple of his holiness, the Lord’s throne is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.5The Lord tries the righteous, but the wicked and he that loves violence his soul hates.6Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, with winds of whirlwinds: this shall be the portion of their cup.7For the righteous Lord loves righteousness; his countenance beholds the upright.