My shep­herd is the Lord my God;
What can I want be­side?
He leads me where green pas­tures are,
And where cool wat­ers hide.

He will re­fresh my soul again,
When I am faint and sore,
And guide my step for His name’s sake,
In right paths ev­er­more.

Though I should walk the vale of death,
I should not know a fear.
Thy rod and staff they com­fort me:
Thou, Lord, art ev­er near.

A tab­le Thou hast spread for me
In pre­sence of my foes;
Thou dost an­oint my head with oil,
My cup, Lord, ov­er­flows.

Thy good­ness and Thy mer­cy, Lord,
Will sure­ly fol­low me,
And in Thy house for­ev­er­more
My dwell­ing place shall be.