My Shepherd is the Lamb,
The living Lord Who died;
With all things good I ever am
By Him supplied.
He richly feeds my soul
With blessings from above,
And leads me where the rivers roll
Of endless love.
My soul He doth restore
Whene’er I go astray;
He makes my cup of joy run o’er
From day to day;
His love, so full, so free,
Anoints my head with oil;
Mercy and goodness follow me,
Fruit of His toil.
When faith and hope shall cease,
And love abide alone,
Then shall I see Him face to face,
And know as known.
Still shall I lift my voice,
His praise my song shall be;
And I will in His love rejoice
Who died for me.