My Shepherd Is The Lord Most High,
And All My Wants Shall Be Supplied;
In Pastures Green He Makes Me Lie,
And Leads By Streams Which Gently Glide.
He In His Mercy Doth Restore
My Soul, When Sinking In Distress;
For His Name’s Sake He Evermore
Leads Me In Paths Of Righteousness.
Yea, Though I Walk Through Death’s Dark Vale,
Even There No Evil Will I Fear;
Because Thy Presence Shall Not Fail,
Thy Rod And Staff My Soul Shall Cheer.
For Me A Table Thou Hast Spread,
Prepared Before The Face Of Foes;
With Oil Thou Dost Anoint My Head;
My Cup Is Filled And Overflows.
Goodness And Mercy Shall Not Cease
Through All My Days To Follow Me;
And In God’s House My Dwelling Place
With Him Forever More Shall Be.
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