The Lord my shep­herd is,
I shall be well sup­plied;
Since He is mine and I am His,
What can I want be­side?

He leads me to the place
Where heav’nly pas­ture grows,
Where liv­ing wa­ters gent­ly pass,
And full sal­va­tion flows.

If e’er I go as­tray,
He doth my soul re­claim;
And guides me in His own right way,
For His most ho­ly name.

While He af­fords His aid
I can­not yield to fear;
Though I should walk
Through death’s dark shade,
My shep­herd’s with me there.

In sight of all my foes,
Thou dost my ta­ble spread;
My cup with bless­ing ov­er­flows,
And joy ex­alts my head.

The boun­ties of Thy love
Shall crown my fol­low­ing days;
Nor from Thy house will I re­move,
Nor cease to speak Thy praise.