1 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;
you lead me, for your mercy's sake,
in paths of truth and grace.

2 When through the shades of death I walk,
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.

3 Your sure provisions, gracious God,
attend me all my days;
O 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, nor a guest,
but like a child at home.