1 The Lord himself doth condescend,
To be my shepherd and my friend;
I on his faithfulness rely;
His care shall all my wants supply.
2 In pastures green he doth me lead,
And there in safety makes me feed,
Refreshing streams are ever nigh,
My thirsty soul to satisfy.
3 When stray'd, or languid, I complain,
His grace revives my soul again;
For his name's sake, in ways upright,
He makes me walk with great delight.
4 Yea, when death's gloomy vale I tread,
With joy, ev'n there, I'll lift my head;
From fear and dread he'll keep me free,
His rod and staff shall comfort me.
5 Thou spread'st a table, Lord, for me,
While foes with spite thy goodness see;
Thou dost my head with oil anoint,
And a full cup for me appoint.
6 Goodness and mercy shall to me,
Through all my life extended be;
And when my pilgrimage is o'er,
I'll dwell with thee for evermore.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The Lord himself doth condescend |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1789 |
Scripture: |