The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want. He makes me down to lie In pastures green; he leadeth me The quiet waters by. My soul he doth restore again; And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness, Even for his own Name's sake. Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear no ill; For thou art with me; and thy rod And staff my comfort still. My table thou hast furnished In presence of my foes; My head thou dost with oil anoint, And my cup overflows. Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me; And in God's house forevermore My dwelling place shall be.