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The Lords My Shepherd Ill Not Want

The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want.
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; He leadeth me
The quiet waters by.
 
My soul He doth restore again;
And me to walk doth make
Within the paths of righteousness,
Even for His own Name's sake.
 
Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,
Yet will I fear none ill;
For Thou art with me; and Thy rod
And staff me comfort still.
 
My table Thou hast furnished
In presence of my foes;
My head Thou dost with oil anoint,
And my cup overflows.
 
Goodness and mercy all my life
Shall surely follow me;
And in God's house forevermore
My dwelling place shall be.

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