I walk in this flock where You lead, Lord. You know the land and how to get to the cold waters that slake my thirst, the deep meadows that give me rest. You tell me when to lie down and when to get on the move.
You know my leaps. Even on stony ground I make these high and springy leaps.
You correct and save me, Lord. Once when I was young I thought I was a leopard. I liked going where I pleased. I thought I had the world by the tail. But there was that high cliff and the brambles where I got stuck right at the edge. You came along and got me out, lifted me up, and took me back to the flock. I was so scared I never thanked You, Lord. But now I want to thank You. That's why I'm leaping so much, I guess.
