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.