The Lord, the Lord, my Shepherd is,
And so can never
Taste misery:
He rests me in green pastures His:
By waters still and sweet,
He guides my feet.
He me revives; leads me the
Which righteousness doth take,
For his name's sake:
Yea, though I should through valleys
Of death's dark shade,
I
No whit fear ill.
For Thou, dear Lord,
Thou me
Thy rod and thy staff
To comfort me:
Before me Thou a table settest,
Even when foe's envious
Doth it espy.
Thou oilst my head,
Thou fillest my cup;
Nay more,
Thou endless good,
Shalt give me food.
To Thee,
I say, ascended up,
Where Thou, the Lord of all,
Dost hold thy hall.
