Lo, my Shepherd’s hand divine!

Want shall never more be mine.

In a pasture fair and large

He shall feed His happy charge,

And my couch with tenderest care

’Midst the springing grass prepare

When I faint with summer’s heat,

He shall lead my weary feet

To the streams that, still and slow,

Through the verdant meadow flow:

When through devious paths I stray,

He shall teach the better way

Though the dreary vale I tread,

By the shades of death o’erspread,

I shall walk from terror free,

While each needed strength I see

By Thy rod and staff supplied;

This my guard, and that my guide.

Thou my plenteous board hast spread;

Thou with oil refreshed my head;

Filled by Thee, my cup o’erflows;

For Thy love no limit knows;

And unto my latest end

Thou my footsteps shalt attend.