1 "The bounteous Lord my pastures shall prepare,
"And feed his servant with a shepherd's care:"
2 In a gay verdant plain, with flow'rs o'erspread,
Where nature furnishes her softest bed;
Where the clear stream in smooth meanders flows,
He bids me take a sweet, serene repose.
3 When in erroneous paths I simply stray,
His gracious goodness leads me in the way;
Recals my wand'ring steps, and points the road,
The even path his David shou'd have trod.
4 Yea; tho' the gloomy vale of death I tread,
Where dreary horrors compass round my head,
E'en there no fatal ills my soul betide,
Thy rod, thy staff, my comfort and my guide.
5 Vainly my foes with hell-born envy burn;
The choicest eates my loaded board adorn,
My chearful bowls are fill'd with purest wine,
And round my brows thy richest ointments shine.
6 And, while my breath inspires this vital clay,
On thee secure I'll rest, for ever gay;
Thy truth, thy mercy, shall protect me still,
And constant I'll attend thy holy hill.