| | 1 | To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. In the LORD I put my trust; How can you say to my soul, "Flee as a bird to your mountain"? | |
| | 2 | For look! The wicked bend their bow, They make ready their arrow on the string, That they may shoot secretly at the upright in heart. | |
| | 3 | If the foundations are 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 test the sons of men. | |
| | 5 | The LORD tests the righteous, But the wicked and the one who loves violence His soul hates. | |
| | 6 | Upon the wicked He will rain coals; Fire and brimstone and a burning wind Shall be the portion of their cup. | |
| | 7 | For the LORD is righteous, He loves righteousness; His countenance beholds the upright. | |
