Lo, my Shepherd’s hand divine!
Want shall never more be mine.
In a pasture fair and large
He shall feed His happy charge,
And my couch with tenderest care
’Midst the springing grass prepare
When I faint with summer’s heat,
He shall lead my weary feet
To the streams that, still and slow,
Through the verdant meadow flow:
When through devious paths I stray,
He shall teach the better way
Though the dreary vale I tread,
By the shades of death o’erspread,
I shall walk from terror free,
While each needed strength I see
By Thy rod and staff supplied;
This my guard, and that my guide.
Thou my plenteous board hast spread;
Thou with oil refreshed my head;
Filled by Thee, my cup o’erflows;
For Thy love no limit knows;
And unto my latest end
Thou my footsteps shalt attend.