My Shepherd is the living Lord,
nothing therefore I need:
In pastures fair, near pleasant streams,
he setteth me to feed.

He shall convert and glad my soul,
and bring my mind in frame,
To walk in paths of righteousness,
for his most holy name.

Yea, though I walk in vale of death,
yet will I fear no ill;
Thy rod and staff do comfort me,
and thou art with me still:

And in the presence of my foes
my table thou dost spread;
Thou wilt fill full my cup, and thou
anointed hast my head.

Thro’ all my life thy favour is
so frankly shew’d to me,
That in thy house for evermore
my dwelling place shall be.