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C. M.

God our Shepherd.

My shepherd will supply my need,

Jehovah is his name;

In pastures fresh he makes me feed,

Beside the living stream.

He brings my wand'ring spirit back

When I forsake his ways;

And leads me, for his mercy's sake,

In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death,

Thy presence is my stay;

A word of thy supporting breath

Drives all my fears away.

Thy hand, in sight of all my foes,

Doth still my table spread,

My cup with blessings overflows,

Thine oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God

Attend me all my days:

O may thy house be mine abode,

And all my work be praise!

There would I find a settled rest,

While others go and come;

No more a stranger or a guest,

But like a child at home.

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