# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
1101 | Dear is the spot where Christians sleep | | | | | | | |
1102 | How blest the righteous when he dies! | | | | | | | |
1103 | Why should we start, and fear to die | | | | | | | |
1104 | How sweet the hour of closing day | | | | | | | |
1105 | Say, why should friendship grieve for those | | | | | | | |
1106 | Go, spirit of the sainted dead | | | | | | | |
1107 | As the sweet flower that scents the morn | | | | | | | |
1108 | Oh, stay thy tears; for they are blest | | | | | | | |
1109 | O God, thy grace and blessing give | | | | | | | |
1110 | How vain is all beneath the skies! | | | | | | | |
1111 | So fades the lovely blooming flower | | | | | | | |
1112 | Sweet thought, my God! that on the palms | | | | | | | |
1113 | I would not live alway: I ask not to stay | | | | | | | |
1114 | Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb | | | | | | | |
1115 | Why do we mourn departing friends | | | | | | | |
1116 | Why should our tears in sorrow flow | | | | | | | |
1117 | There is an hour when I must part | | | | | | | |
1118 | Hark! from the tombs a warning sound | | | | | | | |
1119 | Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims | | | | | | | |
1120 | The once-loved form, now cold and dead | | | | | | | |
1121 | 'Tis Jesus speaks: I fold, says he | | | | | | | |
1122 | Ye mourning saints, whose streaming tears | | | | | | | |
1123 | O thou, whose filmed and failing eye | | | | | | | |
1124 | Oh, for an overcoming faith | | | | | | | |
1125 | Through sorrow's night, and danger's path | | | | | | | |
1126 | When downward to the darksome tomb | | | | | | | |
1127 | Another hand is beckoning us | | | | | | | |
1128 | As bowed by sudden storms, the rose | | | | | | | |
1129 | Behold the western evening light! | | | | | | | |
1130 | It is not death to die | | | | | | | |
1131 | A few more years shall roll | | | | | | | |
1132 | Rest for the toiling hand | | | | | | | |
1133 | "Forever with the Lord!" | | | | | | | |
1134 | Oh, for the death of those | | | | | | | |
1135 | Servant of God, well done | | | | | | | |
1136 | And is there, Lord, a rest | | | | | | | |
1137 | And must this body die | | | | | | | |
1138 | Pastor, thou art from us taken | | | | | | | |
1139 | Brother, rest from sin and sorrow | | | | | | | |
1140 | Cease, ye mourners, cease to languish | | | | | | | |
1141 | Sister, thou wast mild and lovely | | | | | | | |
1142 | What is life? 'tis but a vapor | | | | | | | |
1143 | Friend after friend departs | | | | | | | |
1144 | No, no, it is not dying | | | | | | | |
1145 | Tender Shepherd, thou hast stilled | | | | | | | |
1146 | Beyond the smiling and the weeping | | | | | | | |
1147 | Oh, for the peace which floweth like a river | | | | | | | |
1148 | 'Mid the pastures green of the blesséd isles | | | | | | | |
1149 | The heavens declare thy glory, Lord | | | | | | | |
1150 | God, in the gospel of his Son | | | | | | | |
1151 | Now let my soul, Eternal King | | | | | | | |
1152 | I love the sacred Book of God! | | | | | | | |
1153 | The starry firmament on high | | | | | | | |
1154 | Upon the Gospel's sacred page | | | | | | | |
1155 | What glory gilds the sacred page | | | | | | | |
1156 | Father of mercies, in thy word | | | | | | | |
1157 | Lamp of our feet! whereby we trace | | | | | | | |
1158 | Laden with guilt, and full of fears | | | | | | | |
1159 | How precious is the book divine | | | | | | | |
1160 | Thou lovely Source of true delight | | | | | | | |
1161 | How shall the young secure their hearts | | | | | | | |
1162 | Hail, sacred truth! whose piercing rays | | | | | | | |
1163 | How beauteous are their feet | | | | | | | |
1164 | Ye messengers of Christ | | | | | | | |
1165 | Lord of the harvest! hear | | | | | | | |
1166 | O holy Lord, our God | | | | | | | |
1167 | "Go preach my gospel," saith the Lord | | | | | | | |
1168 | Father of mercies, bow thine ear | | | | | | | |
1169 | Lord of the harvest, bend thine ear | | | | | | | |
1170 | Father of mercies, in thy house | | | | | | | |
1171 | We bid thee welcome in the name | | | | | | | |
1172 | Pour out thy Spirit from on high | | | | | | | |
1173 | 'Tis done--th' important act is done | | | | | | | |
1174 | Let Zion's watchman all awake | | | | | | | |
1175 | Oh, still in accents sweet and strong | | | | | | | |
1176 | We thank thee, Lord, for sending here | | | | | | | |
1177 | The earth, O Lord, is one wide field | | | | | | | |
1178 | O Jesus, in this solemn hour | | | | | | | |
1179 | Son of God, our glorious Head! | | | | | | | |
1180 | O Lord of hosts, whose glory fills | | | | | | | |
1181 | The perfect world, by Adam trod | | | | | | | |
1182 | O God the Father, Christ the Son | | | | | | | |
1183 | Maker of land and rolling sea | | | | | | | |
1184 | And wilt thou, O Eternal God | | | | | | | |
1185 | When Israel's priest the Lamb did choose | | | | | | | |
1186 | Builder of mighty worlds on worlds | | | | | | | |
1187 | To thee this temple we devote | | | | | | | |
1188 | O thou, whose own vast temple stands | | | | | | | |
1189 | In loud exalted strains | | | | | | | |
1190 | Before the Lord we bow | | | | | | | |
1191 | Look from thy sphere of endless day | | | | | | | |
1192 | Sons of day! Arise from slumbers | | | | | | | |
1193 | Our country's voice is pleading | | | | | | | |
1194 | Go preach the blest salvation | | | | | | | |
1195 | When, Lord, to this our western land | | | | | | | |
1196 | From yonder Rocky Mountains | | | | | | | |
1197 | My soul is not at rest | | | | | | | |
1198 | From all that dwell below the skies | | | | | | | |
1199 | Sovereign of worlds, display thy power | | | | | | | |
1200 | Oh, hallowed is the land and blessed | | | | | | | |