She is a ship with costly wares well-stow'd,
A pearl, with virtues infinite endow'd,
A gem, beyond all value and compare:
Happy the man, who has her to his share!
She is a pillar with rich gildings grac'd,
And on a pedestal of silver plac'd,
She is a turret of defence, to save
A weak and sickly husband from the grave,
She is a gorgeous crown, a glorious prize,
And ev'ry grace, in her, concent'red lies!
TWENTY THIRD PSALM.
BY REV. REES PRICHARD, M.A.
TRANSLATED BY THE REV. WILLIAM EVANS.
My shepherd is the Lord above,
Who ne'er will suffer me to rove;
In Him I'll trust, he is so good,
He'll never let me want for food.
To pastures green and flow'ry meads,
His happy flock he gently leads,
Where water in abundance flows,
And where luxuriant herbage grows.
When o'er my bounds I chance to roam,
My shepherd finds and brings me home;
And when I wander o'er the plain,
He drives me to the fold again.
Or should I hap to lose my way,
And in death's gloomy valley stray,
I need not ever be dismay'd,
For God himself will be my aid.
In whate'er pasture I abide,
He still is present at my side;
His rod, his crook, his shepherd's staff,
In every path shall keep me safe.
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