¶ 1 To him that excelleth. A Psalme of Dauid. In the Lord put I my trust: howe say yee then to my soule, Flee to your mountaine as a birde?
2 For loe, the wicked bende their bowe, and make readie their arrowes vpon the string, that they may secretly shoote at them, which are vpright in heart.
4 The Lord is in his holy palace: the Lordes throne is in the heauen: his eyes wil consider: his eye lids will try the children of men.
5 The Lord will try the righteous: but the wicked and him that loueth iniquitie, doeth his soule hate.
6 Vpon the wicked he shall raine snares, fire, and brimstone, and stormie tempest: this is the porcion of their cup.