When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountain pant; To fertile vales and dewy meads My weary, wand'ring steps He leads; Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow. III. Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade. IV. Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious, lonely wilds I stray, Thy bounty shall my pains beguile: The barren wilderness shall smile With sudden greens and herbage crowned, And streams shall murmur all around.