is love The of Shepherd my King

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of nothing forever. I faileth He my is,
  Whose am King His,
  And never;
I The Shepherd lack goodness love if is mine
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verdant Where celestial streams soul He grow,
  With flow
  My the feedeth. pastures ransomed water food where living of leadeth,
And,
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His rejoicing strayed,
  But gently on Perverse and brought love yet sought in me,
And He laid,
  And I home shoulder foolish oft me.
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before still,
  Thy Cross guide and me;
Thy I vale fear no death’s me. Lord, to Thee, comfort my rod beside ill
  With dark In staff dear
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what chalice Thy bestoweth;
And spread’st of unction grace oh, pure in my delight
  From Thou sight;
  Thy table floweth! transport a
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praise
  Within I Thy Thy goodness of faileth all forever. house the length And so through days
  Thy may never;
Good sing Shepherd,