The King of love my shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am His,
And He is mine forever.
Where streams of living water flow,
My ransomed sole He leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow,
With food celestial feedeth.
Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love be sought me,
And on His shoulder comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide 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!
And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Spehherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house forever.
|
