# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
401 | The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl | | | | | | | |
402 | Mourn for the thousands slain | | | | | | | |
403 | The pearl that [the] worldlings covet | | | | | | | |
404 | Some love to drink from the foamy brink | | | | | | | |
405 | From the recesses of a lowly spirit | | | | | | | |
406 | With tearful eyes I look around | | | | | | | |
407 | Thy will be done, In devious way | | | | | | | |
408 | Angels of light, spread your bright wings | | | | | | | |
409 | This life is a race, And brief is the space | | | | | | | |
410 | Once I wandered on the mountain | | | | | | | |
411 | The way to heaven is narrow and its blessed | | | | | | | |
412 | One night the Savior said | | | | | | | |
413 | Round the throne in [of] glory, Happy children | | | | | | | |
414 | There'll be something in heaven for children to do | | | | | | | |
415 | When the battle is fought | | | | | | | |
416 | I think, when I read that [the] sweet story of old | | | | | | | |
417 | O what shall I do to be saved from the sorrows | | | | | | | |
418 | Gently, Lord, O gently lead us | | | | | | | |
419 | My days are gliding swiftly by | | | | | | | |
420 | If you would find salvation | | | | | | | |
421 | Come sing to me of heaven | | | | | | | |
422 | Jerusalem, forever bright | | | | | | | |
423 | Praise God, from whom all blessings flow | | | | | | | |
424 | To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost | | | | | | | |
425 | The Father and the Son | | | | | | | |
426 | Sing we to our God above | | | | | | | |
427 | To God the Father's throne | | | | | | | |
[This hymnal has not been proofed - data may be incomplete or incorrect]