1 I shall not want. Upon Thy arm relying,
Hunger, and thirst, and pain will flee away,
And that dark valley where the dead are lying,
Smile like a garden where no flowers decay.

2 The wintry wind in vain shall wave its pinion
O’er my defenseless head if Thou art nigh!
Ocean’s rough billows, ’neath Thy strong dominion,
Still as a child in cradle-sleep shall lie.

3 Soft clouds will temper rays too fiercely burning,
If Thou my weary feet will guide, sustain;
And through the toil, and tears, and restless yearning,
Thy mighty love will soothe the sharpest pain.

4 I hear Thee in the bird that greets the morning;
I see Thee in the meadow’s fragrant bloom;
In gorgeous clouds the sunset hours adorning—
Nor less within the portals of the tomb.

5 Through flickering leaves the moonbeams gently falling,
The zephyr dying o’er a waveless sea,
The night-bird to his brother softly calling,
All lead my spirit upward unto Thee!

6 And when from life, and light, and beauty, flinging
Its rainbow hues around where’er I tread,
I must go forth, no deathless want upspringing
Shall fetter wings too long in vain outspread.