The Lords my shepherd I'll not want
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green he leadeth me the quiet waters by
My soul he doth restore again and me to wander then
Within the paths of righteousness in Holy's own namesake
Yea though I walk in deaths dark veil yet will I fear non ill
For thou art with me and thy rod and staff it comforts still
My table thou has furnished in presence of my fools
My head thou does with oil anoint and my cup overflows
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