The Lord My Pasture Will Prepare
And Feed Me With A Shepherd’s Care.
His Presence Will My Want Supply
And Guard Me With A Watchful Eye.
My Noonday Walks He Will Attend
And All My Silent Midnight Hours Defend.

When In The Sultry Glebe I Faint,
Or On The Thirsty Mountain Pant,
To Fertile Vales And Dewy Meads
My Weary, Wandering Steps He Leads,
Where Peaceful Rivers, Soft And Slow,
Amid The Cooling Verdant Landscape Flow.

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