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 wandering spirit back
when I forsake your ways,
and lead me, for your mercy's sake
in paths of truth and grace.
2 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.
3 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.
