My shep­herd will sup­ply my need:
Jehovah is His name;
In pas­tures fresh He makes me feed,
Beside the liv­ing stream.
He brings my wan­der­ing spir­it back
When I for­sake His ways,
And leads me, for His mer­cy’s sake,
In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death
Thy pre­sence is my stay;
One word of Thy sup­port­ing breath
Drives all my fears away.
Thy hand in sight of all my foes,
Doth still my ta­ble spread;
My cup with bless­ings ov­er­flows,
Thine oil anoints my head.

The sure pro­vi­sions of my God
Attend me all my days;
O may Thy house be mine abode,
And all my work be praise!
There would I find a set­tled rest,
While oth­ers go and come;
No more a stran­ger, nor a guest,
But like a child at home.