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Psalm
11
[Recommended tunes: St Magnus, Culross]
To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.
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1I in the Lord do put my trust:
how is it then that ye
Say
to my soul, Flee, as a bird,
unto your mountain high?
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2For, lo, the wicked bend their bow,
their shafts on string they fit,
That
those who upright are in heart
they privily may hit.
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3If the foundations be destroy'd,
what hath the righteous done?
4God in his holy temple is,
in heaven is his throne:
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His
eyes do see, his eye-lids try
5men's
sons. The just he proves:
But
his soul hates the wicked man,
and him that vi'lence loves.
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6Snares, fire and brimstone, furious storms,
on sinners he shall rain:
This,
as the portion of their cup,
doth unto them pertain.
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7Because the Lord most righteous doth
in righteousness delight;
And
with a pleasant countenance
beholdeth the upright.
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