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PSALMS
[XI
XI
To the chief Musician
A Psalm of David
- In the Lord put I my trust:
- How say ye to my soul,
- Flee as a bird to your mountain?
- 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.
- If the foundations 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 try, the children of men.
- The Lord trieth the righteous:
- But the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.
- Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone,
- And an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup.
- For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness;
- His countenance doth behold the upright.
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