| 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. |