To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.
1 In theLordput 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 TheLordis in his holy temple, theLord’sthrone is in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.
5 TheLordtrieth 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 righteousLordloveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.
—https://d1b84921e69nmq.cloudfront.net/8/32k/PSA/11-fd828127c4a87491f059b226546d0a48.mp3?version_id=1—