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THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
shall my wants supply,
Though in a bare and rugged way,
My rising soul surveys ;
In wonder, love, and praise.
The gratitude declare,
But Thou canst read it there.
And all my wants redrest,
And hung upon the breast.
Thy mercy lent an ear,
prayer. Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flow'd. When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,