Psalm 23; G. Herbert, Tr.

THE God of love my Shepherd is,

And He that doth me feed:

While He is mine and I am His,

What can I want or need?


He leads me to the tender grass,

Where I both feed and rest;

Then to the streams that gently pass,

In both I have the best.


Or if I stray, He doth convert,

And bring my mind in frame:

And all this not for my desert,

But for His holy Name.


Yea, in death’s shady, black abode

Well may I walk, not fear,

For Thou art with me, and Thy rod

To guide, Thy staff to bear.


Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love

Shall measure all my days;

And as it never shall remove,

So neither shall my praise.


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