Henry Ainsworth Poems

Jehovah feedeth me, I shall not lack ;
In grassy folds he down doth make me lye,
He gently leads me quiet waters by,
He doth return my soul : for his name sake
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CONFESSE ye to Jehovah thankfully.
For he is good : for ever his mercy,
Let the redeemed of .lehovah say.
Whom he from foes' hand hath redeem'd away.
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By Babel's rivers there sate wee,
Yea wept, when wee did mind Sion;
The willowes that amidds it bee
Our harps we hanged them upon :
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