The King of love my Shepherd is, Whose goodness faileth never; I nothing lack if I am his, And he is mine for ever. | Where streams of living water flow My ransomed soul he leadeth, And, where the verdant pastures grow, With food celestial feedeth. | Perverse and foolish oft I strayed, But yet in love he sought me, And on his shoulder gently laid, And home, rejoicing, brought me. | In death's dark vale I fear no ill With thee, dear Lord, beside me; Thy rod and staff my comfort still, Thy cross before to guide me. | Thou spread'st a table in my sight; Thy unction grace bestoweth; And O what transport of delight From thy pure chalice floweth! | 299 And so through all the length of days Thy goodness faileth never: Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praise Within thy house for ever. | |