My soul he doth restore again
And me to walk doth make
Within the paths of righteousness
Even for his own name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through death's dark vale
Yet will I fear no ill
For thou art with me, and thy rod
And staff me comfort still.

My table thou has furnished
In presence of my foes;
My head thou dost with oil anoint
And my cup overflows.