Psalms 11
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1[To the chief Musician, of David.] In the LORD put I my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee a bird to your mountain?
2For, lo, the wicked bend bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart.
3If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
4The LORD in his holy temple, the LORD'S throne in heaven: his eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children of men.
5The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.
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King James Version (1611) is in the public domain. Text bundled with PentecostalGPT.