Classic Poem

The Lord my shepherd, me His sheep
Will from consuming famine keep.
He fosters me in fragrant meads,
By softly-sliding waters leads;

My soul refresh'd with pleasant juice,
And lest they should His name traduce,
Then when I wander in the maze
Of tempting sin, informs my ways.

No terror can my courage quail,
Though shaded in death's gloomy veil;
By Thy protection fortifi'd,
Thy staff my stay, Thy rod my guide.

My table Thou hast furnished,
Pour'd precious odours on my head:
My mazer flows with pleasant wine,
While all my foes with envy pine.

Thy mercy and beneficence
Shall ever join in my defence;
Who in Thy house will sacrifice,
Till aged time close up mine eyes.