My Shepherd, You supply my need; most holy is Your name.
In pastures fresh You make me feed, beside the living stream.
You bring my wand'ring spirit back when I forsake Your ways,
And lead me, for Your mercy's sake, in paths of truth and grace.
When I walk through the shades of death, Your presence is my stay;
One word of Your supporting breath drives all my fears away.
Your hand, in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread;
My cup with blessings overflows, Your oil anoints my head.
The sure provisions of my God attend me all my days;
Oh, may Your house be my abode and all my work be praise.
Here would I find a settled rest, while others go and come;
No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.