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Psalm XI. In Domino confido.
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Psalm XI. In Domino confido.

Since I do trust Jehova still,
Your fearfull wordes why do you spill
That like a bird to some strong hill
I now should fall a flyeng.
Behould the evill have bent their bow,
And sett their arrowes in a row,
To give unwares a mortall blow
To hartes that hate all lyeng.
But that in building they begunn
With ground-plotts fall, shalbe undunn:
For what, alas, have just men donn?
In them no cause is growing.
God in his holy temple is:
The throne of heav'n is only his
Naught his all-seeing sight can misse;
His ey-lidds peise our going.
The Lord doth search the just mans reynes,
But hates, abhorrs, the wicked braines,
On them stormes, brimstone, coales he raines:
That is their share assigned.
But so of happy other side
His lovely face on them doth bide
In race of life their feete to guide
Who be to God enclined.