# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
11 | The first dear thing that ever I loved | | | | | | | |
16 | A summer shower had swept the woods | | | | | | | |
29 | Old Antioch shall answer ye | | | | | | | |
34 | A lay, a lay, good Christians! | | | | | | | |
40 | I know--I know | | | | | | | |
45 | Oh weep for them who never knew | | | | | | | |
48 | Let out thy soul, and pray! | | | | | | | |
51 | Land of the rare old chronicle | | | | | | | |
60 | The abbeys, and the arches | | | | | | | |
68 | The chimes, the chimes of Motherland | | | | | | | |
71 | 'Twas a true-hearted Scotsman | | | | | | | |
77 | The rod that from Jerusalem | | | | | | | |
80 | Yes--'tis the village-joiner's work | | | | | | | |
83 | I never can see a churchyard old | | | | | | | |
88 | The Paschal moon is ripe to-night | | | | | | | |
92 | 'Tis raised in beauty from the dust | | | | | | | |
96 | Cross of Christ, Star of grace | | | | | | | |
100 | In a Church's aisle or towers | | | | | | | |
102 | As I rode on mine errand along | | | | | | | |
104 | A nave it had, and a chancel | | | | | | | |
111 | Hast been where the full-blossomed bay-tree is blowing | | | | | | | |
113 | When old CanĂște the Dane | | | | | | | |
117 | It is the fall of eve | | | | | | | |
121 | The Sun is up betimes | | | | | | | |
124 | In each New-England village | | | | | | | |
128 | Go where the mossy rock shall be | | | | | | | |
131 | Oh Lord, our Lord, how spreads that little seed | | | | | | | |
135 | A fortnight it was from Whitsuntide | | | | | | | |
140 | When the gorgeous day begins | | | | | | | |
143 | Carol. carol, Christians | | | | | | | |
146 | Oh, if there be a sight, on earth | | | | | | | |
149 | My Prayer-book is a casket bright | | | | | | | |
152 | The organ play'd sweet music | | | | | | | |
156 | Oh woman is a tender tree! | | | | | | | |
161 | I love the Church--the holy Church | | | | | | | |
[This hymnal has not been proofed - data may be incomplete or incorrect]