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The King of Love my Shepherd is, 
Whose goodness faileth never; 
I nothing lack if I am His 
And He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow 
My ransomed soul He leadeth, 
And, where the verdant pastures grow, 
With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish, oft I strayed, 
But yet in love He sought me; 
And on His shoulder gently laid, 
And home, rejoicing brought me.

In death’s dark vale, I fear no ill 
With Thee, dear Lord, beside me; 
Thy rod and staff my comfort still, 
Thy cross before to guide me.

Thou spread’st a table in my sight; 
Thine unction grace bestoweth; 
And O what transport of delight 
From Thy pure chalice floweth.

And so through all the length of days, 
Thy goodness faileth never; 
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise 
Within Thy house forever.

- "The King of Love My Shepherd Is," Henry Baker (1885-1910)