I shall not want.
Upon Thy arm relying,
Hunger, and thirst,
And pain will flee away,
And that dark valley
Where the dead are lying,
Smile like a garden
Where no flowers decay.

The wintry wind
In vain shall wave its pinion
O’er my defenseless
Head if Thou art nigh!
Ocean’s rough billows,
’Neath Thy strong dominion,
Still as a child
In cradle-sleep shall lie.

Soft clouds will temper
Rays too fiercely burning,
If Thou my weary
Feet will guide, sustain;
And through the toil,
And tears, and restless yearning,
Thy mighty love
Will soothe the sharpest pain.

I hear Thee in
The bird that greets the morning;
I see Thee in
The meadow’s fragrant bloom;
In gorgeous clouds
The sunset hours adorning—
Nor less within
The portals of the tomb.

Through flickering leaves
The moonbeams gently falling,
The zephyr dying
O’er a waveless sea,
The night-bird to
His brother softly calling,
All lead my spirit
Upward unto Thee!

And when from life,
And light, and beauty, flinging
Its rainbow hues
Around where’er I tread,
I must go forth,
No deathless want upspringing
Shall fetter wings
Too long in vain outspread.