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Psalm 11
1 In the LORD put I 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 privily shoot at the upright in
heart.
3 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.
7 For the righteous LORD loveth righteousness; his
countenance doth behold the upright.
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