The bounteous Lord my pastures shall prepare

Verse 1

"The bounteous Lord my pastures shall prepare, "And feed his servant with a shepherd's care:"

Verse 2

In a gay verdant plain, with flow'rs o'erspread, Where nature furnishes her softest bed; Where the clear stream in smooth meanders flows, He bids me take a sweet, serene repose.

Verse 3

When in erroneous paths I simply stray, His gracious goodness leads me in the way; Recals my wand'ring steps, and points the road, The even path his David shou'd have trod.

Verse 4

Yea; tho' the gloomy vale of death I tread, Where dreary horrors compass round my head, E'en there no fatal ills my soul betide, Thy rod, thy staff, my comfort and my guide.

Verse 5

Vainly my foes with hell-born envy burn; The choicest eates my loaded board adorn, My chearful bowls are fill'd with purest wine, And round my brows thy richest ointments shine.

Verse 6

And, while my breath inspires this vital clay, On thee secure I'll rest, for ever gay; Thy truth, thy mercy, shall protect me still, And constant I'll attend thy holy hill.