1 To the chief Musician, [A Psalm] of David. In the LORD I put 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 secretly shoot at the upright in heart. privily: Heb. in darkness3 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. an horrible…: or, a burning tempest7 For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his countenance beholdeth the upright.