Psalm 11
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.