De Lord my Shepherd be
Surelye I shall not lack.
He leads me into fresh green grass
Along de daily track.
And where de waters sweet
Flow gently, gently on
He leads me; and He maaks me feel
dat I be He's own son.
My soul He does restore
and in right paths does guide
for He's naame's sake; and so dat I
doant wander from He's side.
Yea, though I walk tween hills
de shaades of death all through,
of evil I wunt be afeardt
acos I walk wid you.
Your kind of Sussex bat,
your kind of Pyecrombe crook,
they comfort me: and sure me I
to you for help can look.
A table you've prepared
dere I may set and feast
where enemies be all around,
You'll see dey doant molest.
You're poured iol on my head
as ef I was a king;
my cup of jy runs over loike
a ever bubbling spring.
Goodness and marcy too
shall surelye follow me
all through de days of earthly life
wherever I may be.
And surelye after dat
in de house of de Lord
I'll live for ever.
For dat be according to He's word.
James Richards, Tunbridge Wells