The Lord to mee a shepheard is,
 want therefore shall not I,

       

Hee in the folds of tender-grasse,
doth cause mee downe to lie:

 

To waters calme me gently leads

Restore my soule doth hee:
he doth in paths of righteousnes

for his names sake leade mee.
      

Yea though in valley of deaths shade
I walk, none ill I’le feare:
because thou art with mee, thy rod,
and staffe my comfort are.

      

For mee a table thou hast spread,
in presence of my foes:
thou dost annoynt my head with oyle,
my cup it over-flowes.

       

Goodnes & mercy surely shall
all my dayes follow mee:
and in the Lords house I shall dwell
so long as dayes shall bee.