Psalms 11
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1
To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David. In Jehovah have I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee [as] a bird to your mountain?
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2
For behold, the wicked bend the bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may in darkness shoot at the upright in heart.
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3
If the foundations be destroyed, what shall the righteous do?
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4
Jehovah [is] in the temple of his holiness; Jehovah, — his throne is in the heavens: his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.
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5
Jehovah trieth the righteous one; but the wicked, and him that loveth violence, his soul hateth.
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6
Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone; and scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup.
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7
For righteous is Jehovah; he loveth righteousness, his countenance doth behold the upright.
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