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,

E'en for his own name's sake.
Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,

Yet will I fear no ill:

For thou art with me, and thy rod

And staff me comfort still.
My table thou hast furnished

In prsence 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 for evermore

My dwelling-place shall be.