Psalm 23

THe Lord my Pastor daignes to be,
I nothing, now, shall need:
To drinck sweet springs he bringeth mee,
And on green Meads to feed.
For his Name-sake, my hart he glads,
He makes my wayes vpright:
And, I, the vase of deaths black shades,
Cann passe, without affright.

Thy staffe, thy presence, & thy rodd,
My joyfull comforts are,
And, thou before my foes (oh God)
My Table shalt prepare.
Oyle on my head. pour'd out thou hast,
My Cupp doth over-flowe,
And thou, on me, whilst life doth last,
Thy favours wilt bestowe.

Yea, Lord, thy goodnes & thy grace,
Shall alwayes follow me:
And, in thy house, my dwelling place
For evermore shall be.