The Shepherd Psalm
What is it?
From their first contact with Psalm 23, the native people of the North American plains used sign language to communicate it to tribes who spoke different languages. In 1894, Isabel Crawford, working in Oklahoma with the Kiowa, translated the sign language into English. The Shepherd Psalm is a setting of that translation.
Originally written for solo soprano and piano (in which form it is still available), I have since expanded it into the concert version that you can hear below.
Listen
Lyrics
The Great Spirit above is a shepherd chief
I am his and with him I want not
He throws onto me a rope
And the name of the rope is Love
He draws me very tenderly
To where the grass is green
And the water not dangerous
And I eat and lie down satisfied
Sometimes my heart is very weak and falls down
But he lifts it up again
And draws me into a good road
For his name is Wonderful
Sometime very soon it may be longer
It may be a long long time
He will draw me into a narrow place
Between mountains where it is dark
Very dark but I'll not turn back
And I'll not be afraid
For it's there between those mountains
That the Shepherd Chief will meet me
And the hunger I have felt in my heart
All through this life will be satisfied
Sometimes he makes the love-rope a whip
But after that he gives me a staff to lean on
He spreads a table before me
With all kinds of food
He puts his hand on my head
And all the tiredness is gone
He fills my cup til it runs over
What I tell you is true it is no lie
These roads that are away ahead
Will be with me through this life
And afterwards I shall go to live
In the big camp and sit down
And sit down with the Shepherd Chief
Forever
Learn
There's an interesting back-story to this song. I became a Christian in October 1975. Prior to that I'd been composing stuff on and off; but suddenly I found myself unable to compose. I was not particularly worried, believing that God had other plans for me. Late the following year I met a man - Richard Benjamin Wood - who was a few months shy of his 100th birthday. He had been on a boat in the middle of a lake in Ireland, alone, and fallen overboard. Unable to swim, he prepared himself to meet his maker and lost consciousness. The next thing he know, he was sitting on the lake shore, certain that God had rescued him. He died shortly after I met him for the first time, five weeks before his 100th birthday.
I attended his funeral, during which the words of this song were read. I'd never come across them before. As we left the church, the man's daughter, Maureen, asked me if I would set the words to music. I hesitated, telling her plainly that while I would try, I could not be sure that I would succeed. So I returned to my parents' house and prayed about it. Two days later I completed the composition.
So in effect this experience re-established my confidence in my ability to compose. It would be another thirty-three years before I could feel able to call myself a composer, but that's another story.
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