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The Sonne of God my shepheard is:                 I am                 His lambe. I shall not want, for I am His. He leadeth me to tender grasse                 Where I                 Do lie, And where still waters gently passe. He doth restore (and therein blesse)                 My soule,                 Makes whole My finely shatter'd brokennesse. My comfort is His staffe and rod:                 They prove                 The love And mercy of the Sonne of God. For His names sake, my shepheard leades                 His keepe                 Of sheepe Through righteous wayes 'twixt thornes and weedes.   Yea, though I walke through Deaths blacke vale                 Of shade,                 Affrayd I'm not, for Thou dost leade my trayle.   Sith Thou art with me, Lord, no feare                 I'll have:                 I'll brave Evil with ease and eke good cheare. Thou dost prepare, amid my foes,                 My food:                 Renew'd I am, and my cuppe overflowes. Thou dost with oyle anoint mine head,                 Dost poure                 It o'er The living head that once was dead. Surely goodnesse and mercy shall                 With me                 E'er be, For Thou'rt my home and life and all.
0
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 9:49 AM UTC
Psalme XXIII
The Sonne of God my shepheard is:                 I am                 His lambe. I shall not want, for I am His. He leadeth me to tender grasse                 Where I                 Do lie, And where still waters gently passe. He doth restore (and therein blesse)                 My soule,                 Makes whole My finely shatter'd brokennesse. My comfort is His staffe and rod:                 They prove                 The love And mercy of the Sonne of God. For His names sake, my shepheard leades                 His keepe                 Of sheepe Through righteous wayes 'twixt thornes and weedes.   Yea, though I walke through Deaths blacke vale                 Of shade,                 Affrayd I'm not, for Thou dost leade my trayle.   Sith Thou art with me, Lord, no feare                 I'll have:                 I'll brave Evil with ease and eke good cheare. Thou dost prepare, amid my foes,                 My food:                 Renew'd I am, and my cuppe overflowes. Thou dost with oyle anoint mine head,                 Dost poure                 It o'er The living head that once was dead. Surely goodnesse and mercy shall                 With me                 E'er be, For Thou'rt my home and life and all.
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Christian
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 9:49 AM UTC
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