For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In Jehovah do I take refuge: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain;
For, lo, the wicked bend the bow,
They make ready their arrow upon the string,
That they may shoot in darkness at the upright in heart;
If the foundations be destroyed,
What can the righteous do?
Jehovah is in his holy temple;
Jehovah, his throne is in heaven;
His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.
Jehovah trieth the righteous;
But the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.
Upon the wicked he will rain snares;
Fire and brimstone and burning wind shall be the portion of their cup.
For Jehovah is righteous; he loveth righteousness:
The upright shall behold his face.
