1 I in the Lord do put my trust,
How therefore do you say
Unto my soul, like as a bird
Fly to your hill away?
2 For lo the wicked bend their bow,
Their shafts on string prepare:
That they may shoot i' th' dark at them
In heart that upright are.
3 If that the firm foundations
Be wholly overthrown;
Yet for the man that righteous is,
What is it he hath done?
4 The Lord in's holy temple is,
The Lord's throne's in the sky:
His eyes will view, his eye-lids too
The sons of men will try.
5 The man that truly righteous is,
Ev'n him the Lord will prove:
His soul the wicked hates, and him
That violence doth love.
6 Snares, fire and brimstone he will rain
Ungodly men upon:
And burning tempest of their cup
Shall be the portion.
7 Because the Lord that righteous is,
All righteousness doth love:
His countenance the upright one
Beholding doth approve.
|First Line:||I in the Lord do put my trust|
|Title:||To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David|