Loading…
Isaac Watts
My Shepherd, you supply my need, most holy is your name; in pastures fresh you make me feed, beside the living stream. You bring my wand'ring spirit back when I forsake your ways; you lead me, for your mercy's sake, in paths of truth and grace.
When through the shades of death I walk, your presence is my stay; one word of your supporting breath drives all my fears away. Your hand in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread; my cup with Blessings overflows, your oil anoints my head.
Your sure provisions gracious God attend me all my days; oh, may your house be my abode, and all my work be praise. Here would I find a settled rest, while others go and come; no more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home.