# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
101 | The hour of freedom! come it must | | | | | | | |
102 | How shall we praise thee, Lord of light? | | | | | | | |
103 | How blest is he whose tranquil mind | | | | | | | |
104 | O thou true life of all that live! | | | | | | | |
105 | O Father! humbly we repose | | | | | | | |
106 | How pure in heart and sound in head | | | | | | | |
107 | Do we indeed desire the dead | | | | | | | |
108 | O, yet we trust that somehow, good | | | | | | | |
109 | When long the soul had slept in chains | | | | | | | |
110 | Unchangeable, all-perfect Lord! | | | | | | | |
111 | How happy is he born or taught | | | | | | | |
112 | 'See how he loved!' exclaimed the Jews | | | | | | | |
113 | The Sage his cup of hemlock quaffed | | | | | | | |
114 | Though life be dark with grief and crime | | | | | | | |
115 | My country, shall thy honored name | | | | | | | |
116 | Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky | | | | | | | |
117 | What precept, Jesus, is like thine | | | | | | | |
119 | Immortal praise to God be given | | | | | | | |
120 | Thy name be hallowed evermore | | | | | | | |
121 | From North and South, from East and West | | | | | | | |
122 | Father of angels and of men | | | | | | | |
123 | Thou art, O God, exalted high | | | | | | | |
124 | Another hand is beckoning us | | | | | | | |
125 | The dead are like the stars by day | | | | | | | |
126 | Calm on the bosom of thy God | | | | | | | |
127 | While thee I seek, protecting Power! | | | | | | | |
129 | Prayer is the soul's sincere desire | | | | | | | |
130 | Jehovah God! thy gracious power | | | | | | | |
131 | Sweet is the prayer whose holy stream | | | | | | | |
132 | O God! we praise thee, and confess | | | | | | | |
133 | True prayer is not th' imposing sound | | | | | | | |
134 | O pure Reformers! not in vain | | | | | | | |
135 | Be firm, be bold, be strong, be true | | | | | | | |
136 | All men are equal in their birth | | | | | | | |
137 | Hail, Love of Country! noble flame | | | | | | | |
138 | O, guard our shores from every foe | | | | | | | |
139 | Dear friend, whose presence in the house | | | | | | | |
140 | How sweet, how calm, this Sabbath morn | | | | | | | |
141 | Night prays with rosary of stars | | | | | | | |
142 | We will not ask thee, Lord, to come | | | | | | | |
143 | Unheard the dews around me fall | | | | | | | |
144 | Time with his pencil dipt in light | | | | | | | |
145 | Life is the hour that lies between | | | | | | | |
146 | Death is the fading of a cloud | | | | | | | |
147 | The ocean looketh up to heaven | | | | | | | |
148 | Hail, great Creator, wise and good! | | | | | | | |
149 | Oh, influence sweet, from spheres above | | | | | | | |
150 | Come, gentle spirits, to us now | | | | | | | |
151 | The year had lost its leaves again | | | | | | | |
152 | When our dear father's nearest, most | | | | | | | |
153 | Awake my soul! stretch every nerve | | | | | | | |
154 | Walk in the light! so shalt thou know | | | | | | | |
155 | Up, man of reason, rouse thee up | | | | | | | |
156 | Oh! tell me not there is no love | | | | | | | |
157 | Three angel spirits walk the earth | | | | | | | |
158 | Lord, thou art good! all nature shows | | | | | | | |
159 | Jehovah, God! thy gracious power | | | | | | | |
160 | Why should I pause, when at my door | | | | | | | |
161 | The man of charity extends | | | | | | | |
162 | The heart, the heart! oh, let it be | | | | | | | |
163 | Hail, great Creator--wise and good! | | | | | | | |
164 | There's not a tint that paints the rose | | | | | | | |
165 | O, all ye nations, praise the Lord | | | | | | | |
166 | It is a faith sublime and sure | | | | | | | |
167 | We watched her breathing through the night | | | | | | | |
168 | As distant lands beyond the sea | | | | | | | |
169 | The myst'ry of the Spirit's birth | | | | | | | |
170 | A light is dawning from on high | | | | | | | |
171 | O not alone, when like a bird | | | | | | | |
172 | There's good in everything we view | | | | | | | |
173 | I may not scorn the lowliest | | | | | | | |
174 | There is a spell in every flower | | | | | | | |
175 | With downy pinion they enfold | | | | | | | |
176 | The sun may warm the grass to life | | | | | | | |
177 | By the lone wayside bending low | | | | | | | |
178 | The world has much of beautiful | | | | | | | |
179 | Should Sorrow's gate be open wide | | | | | | | |
180 | O not to crush with abject fear | | | | | | | |
181 | How little recks it where men die | | | | | | | |
182 | There is a book, who runs may read | | | | | | | |
183 | Scorn not the slightest word or deed | | | | | | | |
184 | Spirit of peace, celestial Dove! | | | | | | | |
185 | When, in the busy haunts of men | | | | | | | |
186 | The world may change from old to new | | | | | | | |
187 | To truth, the joyful nations round | | | | | | | |
188 | When all thy mercies, O my God | | | | | | | |
189 | Father divine! before thy view | | | | | | | |
190 | Angels, where'er we go, attend | | | | | | | |
191 | Joy to the world--the darkness flies | | | | | | | |
192 | The heavenly spheres to thee, O God | | | | | | | |
193 | It visiteth the desolate | | | | | | | |
194 | Thou giver of all earthly good | | | | | | | |
195 | Each tiny leaf unfolds a scroll | | | | | | | |
196 | Bland as the morning breath of June | | | | | | | |
197 | In life's young morn, with buds and flowers | | | | | | | |
198 | There's not a place in earth's vast round | | | | | | | |
199 | O for a faith that will not shrink | | | | | | | |
200 | Check not the oar when skies are clear | | | | | | | |
201 | O God! we praise thee, and confess | | | | | | | |
202 | Our God! our God! thou shinest here | | | | | | | |