# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
d201 | There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel's vein [veins] | | | | | | | |
d202 | There is a happy land, Far, [not] far away | | | | | | | |
d203 | There is a heaven o'er yonder skies | | | | | | | |
d204 | There is a holy city | | | | | | | |
d205 | There is a land of pleasure, Where streams of joy forever roll | | | | | | | |
d206 | There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign | | | | | | | |
d207 | There is a voice on every breeze | | | | | | | |
d208 | There is a world we have not seen | | | | | | | |
d209 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | | | |
d210 | There's not a bright and beaming smile | | | | | | | |
d211 | They have gone to the land where the patriarchs rest | | | | | | | |
d212 | This world is all a fleeting show | | | | | | | |
d213 | This world is poor from shore to shore | | | | | | | |
d214 | This world's not all a fleeting show | | | | | | | |
d215 | Thou art gone to the grave but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
d216 | Thou soft [sweet] flowing [gliding] Kedron [Cedron], by thy silver [limpid] stream | | | | | | | |
d217 | Though earth has full many a beatiful spot | | | | | | | |
d218 | Though in the outward, earthly church below | | | | | | | |
d219 | Though sinners would vex me | | | | | | | |
d220 | Though trouble assail us, and dangers affright | | | | | | | |
d221 | Through all the world below | | | | | | | |
d222 | Through tribulation [tribulations] deep | | | | | | | |
d223 | To Jordan's banks our hosts are come | | | | | | | |
d224 | To the cross where Jesus dies | | | | | | | |
d225 | To thee, O blessed Savior | | | | | | | |
d226 | Today if ye [you] will hear his voice | | | | | | | |
d227 | Tossed upon life's raging billow | | | | | | | |
d228 | Vain, delusive world, adieu | | | | | | | |
d229 | Vital spark of heavenly flame | | | | | | | |
d230 | Waiting on earth, I here sigh to be gone | | | | | | | |
d231 | Watchman, tell us of the night | | | | | | | |
d232 | Welcome, sweet Sabbath day, Welcome again | | | | | | | |
d233 | We're marching to the promised land | | | | | | | |
d234 | We're traveling home to heaven above | | | | | | | |
d235 | What could your Redeemer do | | | | | | | |
d236 | What happy children, who follow [wait on] Jesus | | | | | | | |
d237 | What various hindrances we meet | | | | | | | |
d238 | What wondrous love is this, O my soul | | | | | | | |
d239 | What's this that steals, that steals upon my frame | | | | | | | |
d240 | When first my trembling soul was led | | | | | | | |
d241 | When for [the] eternal [heavenly] world [worlds] I [we] steer | | | | | | | |
d242 | When I can read my title clear | | | | | | | |
d243 | When marshalled on the nightly [mighty] plain | | | | | | | |
d244 | When pillowed on my downy couch | | | | | | | |
d245 | When Sabbath's sacred morning light begins | | | | | | | |
d246 | When shall we meet again, Meet ne'er [more] to sever | | | | | | | |
d247 | When shall we three meet again | | | | | | | |
d248 | When the harvest is past and the summer is o'er | | | | | | | |
d249 | When the last trump shakes the ground | | | | | | | |
d250 | When torn is the [thy] bosom by [with] sorrow [anguish] or [and] care | | | | | | | |
d251 | Where may children go to hear of God | | | | | | | |
d252 | While beauty and youth are in their full prime | | | | | | | |
d253 | While I was still of tender years | | | | | | | |
d254 | While sorrows encompass me round | | | | | | | |
d255 | While the Sabbath light is beaming | | | | | | | |
d256 | Whither goest thou, pilgrim stranger | | | | | | | |
d257 | Why should I be affrighted at pestilence | | | | | | | |
d258 | Ye angels who mortals attend | | | | | | | |
d259 | Ye children of Zion that's [who are] aiming for glory | | | | | | | |
d260 | Ye lovers of pleasure, who [that] slight the [this] salvation | | | | | | | |
d261 | Ye objects of sense, and enjoyments of time | | | | | | | |
d262 | Ye saints of God come hear me tell | | | | | | | |
d263 | Ye sons of the main, ye that [who] sail o'er the flood | | | | | | | |
d264 | Ye sons of war I pray draw near | | | | | | | |
d265 | Ye weary heavy laden souls | | | | | | | |
d266 | Yes, my native land, I love thee | | | | | | | |
d267 | Yes, we trust the day is breaking | | | | | | | |
d268 | Yield to me now, for I am weak | | | | | | | |
d269 | Young people, all, attention give | | | | | | | |