Psalm XXIII

The Lord himself my shepherd is,
Who doth me feed and [safely] keep;
What can I want that's truly good,
While I am [one of] his own sheep?

He makes me to lie down and rest
In [pleasant] pastures, tender grass;
He keeps and gently leadeth me
Near [the sweet] streams of quietness.

My failing soul he doth restore,
And lead in [safe and] righteous ways;
And all this freely, that his grace
And [holy] Name may have the praise.

And though my daily walk do lie
Through death's [dark] vale [yet] thou art there;
All being managed by thee,
[Therefore] no evil will I fear.
For in my lowest darkest state
The Lord [of Love] is with me still:
Thy Rod and Staff shall comfort me,
And keep me from all [deadly] ill.

Thy bounty doth my Table spread
In presence of my [envious] foes;
My head refreshing Oyl anoints;
My [plenteous] cup still overflows.

Goodness and mercy all my days
Shall [surely] keep and follow me;
And in the house of God always
My [joyful] dwelling-place shall be.

The same by Mr. George Herbert.

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.

And if I stray, he doth convert
And bring my mind in frame,
And all this not for my desert,
But for his holy name.

And 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.

Thou makest me to sit and dine
Even in mine enemies fight;
My head with Oyl, my cup with Wine
Flows over day and night.

Surely thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my days;
And as it never shall remove,
So neither shall my praise.