To Thy pas­tures fair and large,
Heav’nly Shep­herd, lead Thy charge,
And my couch with ten­d’rest care,
’Mid the spring­ing grass pre­pare.

When I faint with sum­mer’s heat,
Thou shalt guide my wea­ry feet
To the streams that still and slow
Thro’ the ver­dant mea­dows flow.

Safe the drea­ry vale I tread
By the shades of death o’er­spread,
With Thy rod and staff sup­plied,
This my guard, and that my guide.

Constant to my lat­est end
Thou my foot­steps shall at­tend;
And shalt bid Thy hal­lowed dome
Yield me an eter­nal home.