# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
401 | Jesus, lover of my soul | | | | | | | |
402 | This is a precious book indeed! | | | | | | | |
403 | The Bible--the Bible! more precious than gold | | | | | | | |
404 | Lord, thy words are dearer far | | | | | | | |
405 | We'll not give up the Bible | | | | | | | |
406 | The morn of life how fair and gay | | | | | | | |
407 | This book is all that's left me now | | | | | | | |
408 | Holy Bible! book divine! | | | | | | | |
409 | Father of mercies, in thy Word | | | | | | | |
410 | How precious is the book divine | | | | | | | |
411 | O that I, like Timothy | | | | | | | |
412 | There is a stream whose gentle flow | | | | | | | |
413 | Here's a message of love sent down from above | | | | | | | |
414 | What glory gilds the sacred page! | | | | | | | |
415 | The counsels of redeeming grace | | | | | | | |
416 | See that heathen mother stand | | | | | | | |
417 | Jesus! in Christian love we meet | | | | | | | |
418 | Now be the gospel banner | | | | | | | |
419 | On many a foreign shore | | | | | | | |
420 | How beauteous are their feet | | | | | | | |
421 | Far, far from Zion, far from God | | | | | | | |
422 | Little trav'lers, Zionward | | | | | | | |
423 | Tracts have the gift of tongues: they preach | | | | | | | |
424 | Lord of the harvest, hear | | | | | | | |
425 | From Greenland's icy mountains | | | | | | | |
426 | Sow in the morn thy seed | | | | | | | |
427 | Night wraps the land where Jesus spoke | | | | | | | |
428 | Sovereign of worlds! display thy power | | | | | | | |
429 | Jesus, the name high over all | | | | | | | |
430 | I love thy kingdom, Lord | | | | | | | |
431 | Jesus shall reign where'er the sun | | | | | | | |
432 | Watchman, tell us of the night | | | | | | | |
433 | Millions there are on heathen ground | | | | | | | |
434 | Little rain-drops feed the rill | | | | | | | |
435 | Lord, we thank thee thou hast spoken | | | | | | | |
436 | From year to year in love we meet | | | | | | | |
437 | Come, let us rejoice | | | | | | | |
438 | We seem to hear a voice of praise | | | | | | | |
439 | Young children once were heard to sing | | | | | | | |
440 | Let children proclaim their Saviour and King | | | | | | | |
441 | Rich is the sacred song that swells | | | | | | | |
442 | O thou, whose all-sustaining power | | | | | | | |
443 | Hail, great Creator, wise and good! | | | | | | | |
444 | Come, let our voices join | | | | | | | |
445 | Here, like the birds that wander free | | | | | | | |
446 | Come, ye children, and adore him | | | | | | | |
447 | With mercies crown'd, the rolling years | | | | | | | |
448 | Lord, we are spared again to meet | | | | | | | |
449 | Almighty God! to thee we raise | | | | | | | |
450 | O God of Zion, hear! | | | | | | | |
451 | We now to Christ, the Saviour, King | | | | | | | |
452 | The Sunday school! the Sunday school! | | | | | | | |
453 | Our schools are nurseries below | | | | | | | |
454 | Come, and sing with joy and gladness | | | | | | | |
455 | To thee, O blessed Saviour | | | | | | | |
456 | The freshly-blooming flowers | | | | | | | |
457 | Great God! to thee our thanks we bring | | | | | | | |
458 | Come, let us tune our voices | | | | | | | |
459 | Thou, who didst with love and blessing | | | | | | | |
460 | We have met in peace together | | | | | | | |
461 | We meet again in gladness | | | | | | | |
462 | Welcome to our festival | | | | | | | |
463 | All hail the joyful morning! | | | | | | | |
464 | Up to thee, Almighty Father | | | | | | | |
465 | O come, let us sing! | | | | | | | |
466 | My country! 'tis of thee | | | | | | | |
467 | With joy we meet | | | | | | | |
468 | In fervent prayer, with holy praise | | | | | | | |
469 | With grateful delight we survey | | | | | | | |
470 | Lord, to thee our songs we raise | | | | | | | |
471 | A children's temple here we build | | | | | | | |
472 | Hallow'd be this humble spot | | | | | | | |
473 | O do not touch the madd'ning bowl! | | | | | | | |
474 | The drunkard wastes away his strength | | | | | | | |
475 | Mourn for the thousands slain | | | | | | | |
476 | O take the madd'ning bowl away | | | | | | | |
477 | What is't to keep Thanksgiving-Day? | | | | | | | |
478 | Mortals, awake! with angels join | | | | | | | |
479 | The glorious light is dawning | | | | | | | |
480 | Sweet is the song of heaven | | | | | | | |
481 | Brightest and best of the sons of the morning | | | | | | | |
482 | Happy angels! still ye dwell | | | | | | | |
483 | Joy to the world, the Lord is come! | | | | | | | |
484 | May this a happy new year be | | | | | | | |
485 | A year, another year, is fled | | | | | | | |
486 | Spared to commence another year | | | | | | | |
487 | While, with ceaseless course, the sun | | | | | | | |
488 | O lovely voices of the sky | | | | | | | |
489 | When shall we all meet again? | | | | | | | |
490 | Dear partner of our hopes and fears | | | | | | | |
491 | We offer, Lord, an humble prayer | | | | | | | |
492 | Asleep in Jesus! blessed sleep | | | | | | | |
493 | A mourning class, a vacant seat | | | | | | | |
494 | When sickness, pain, and death | | | | | | | |
495 | Life is a span, a fleeting hour | | | | | | | |
496 | As, bow'd by sudden storms, the rose | | | | | | | |
497 | Weep, little children, weep | | | | | | | |
498 | Children, like the early flower | | | | | | | |
499 | Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
500 | Go to thy rest, my child | | | | | | | |