My shep­herd is the liv­ing Lord;
Now shall my wants be well sup­plied;
His pro­vi­dence and ho­ly Word
Become my safe­ty and my guide.

In pas­tures where sal­vat­ion grows
He makes me feed, He makes me rest;
There liv­ing water gent­ly flows,
And all the food di­vin­ely blest.

My wan­der­ing feet His ways mis­take,
But He res­tores my soul to peace,
And leads me for His mer­cy’s sake
In the fair paths of right­eous­ness.

Though I walk through the gloomy vale
Where death and all its ter­rors are,
My heart and hope shall ne­ver fail,
For God my Shep­herd’s with me there.

Amidst the dar­kness and the deeps
Thou art my com­fort, Thou my stay;
Thy staff sup­ports my fee­ble steps,
Thy rod di­rects my doubt­ful way.

The sons of earth, and sons of hell,
Gaze at Thy good­ness, and re­pine
To see my ta­ble spread so well
With liv­ing bread and cheer­ful wine.

How I re­joice when on my head
Thy Spir­it con­des­cends to rest!
’Tis a di­vine anoint­ing, shed
Like oil of glad­ness at a feast.

Surely the mer­cies of the Lord
Attend His house­hold all their days;
There will I dwell to hear His Word,
To seek His face, and sing His praise.