Psalm 11

IN God I put my Confidence,
Why do yee utter such a word?
Why say you to my soul, fly hence
Unto your mountain, as a bird?
For lo, the wicked bend their bowes,
Their arrows on their strings prepare,
In secret for to shoot at those
That upright-hearted persons are.
If the foundations be destroy'd,
What can the Righteous do? they say;
Heavens holy temple stands not void,
For God is present there for ay.
The Lord within the heavens high,
Hath stablished his royall throne:
His Eyes behold, his Eye-lids try
The sonnes of mortall men each one.
The Lord the righteous throughly tries,
But he the wicked greatly hates,
And him that loveth cruelties
His righteous soul abominates.
Brimstone and fire, and tangling snares
Upon the wicked raine shall he;
An horrible tempest he prepares
The portion of their cup to be.
For God that is a righteous one,
Doth righteousnesse as much affect:
The upright man he looks upon
With very singular respect.