The Lord My Pasture Shall Prepare

The Lord my pasture shall prepare And feed me with a shepherds care; His presence shall my wants supply And guard me with a watchful eye; My noonday walks He shall attend And all my midnight hours defend. When in the sultry glebe I faint Or on the thirsty mountain pant, To fertile vales and dewy meads My weary, wandering steps He leads, Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow. Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For Thou, O Lord, art with me still; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid And guide me through the dreadful shade. Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds, I stray, Thy bounty shall my pains beguile; The barren wilderness shall smile, With sudden greens and herbage crowned, And streams shall murmur all around