Psalms 11 To the chaunter, A Psalme of Dauid. In the Lorde put I my trust: howe saye ye then to my soule: that she shulde fle as a byrde vpon your hyll?

Great⁽ⁱ⁾ ¹ To the chaunter, A Psalme of Dauid. In the Lorde put I my trust: howe saye ye then to my soule: that she shulde fle as a byrde vpon your hyll? ² For lo, the vngodly bende theyr bowe, and make ready theyr arowes wyth in the bowe: that they maye pryuely shote at them, which are true of hert. ³ For the foundacyons wilbe cast downe, and what hath the ryghteous done? ⁴ The Lorde is in hys holy temple the Lordes seat is in heauen? Hys eyes consydre & hys eye lyddes tryeth the chyldren of men. ⁵ The Lorde aloweth the ryghteous: but the vngodly, and hym that delyteth in wickednes, doth his soule abhorre. ⁶ Upon the vngodly he shall rayne snares, fyre, and brymstone, storme & tempest: thys shalbe theyr porcyon to dryncke. ⁷ For the ryghteous Lorde loueth ryghteousnes: hys countenaunce wyll beholde the thynge that is iust.