# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
201 | How happy the sorrowful man | | | | | | | |
202 | Let every tongue thy goodness speak | | | | | | | |
203 | My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here | | | | | | | |
204 | O thou who diest the mourner's tear | | | | | | | |
205 | Go to dark Gethsemane | | | | | | | |
206 | O my soul!what means this sadness? | | | | | | | |
207 | Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly | | | | | | | |
208 | Thy mercy heard my infant prayer | | | | | | | |
209 | Tarry with me, O my Saviour! | | | | | | | |
210 | In age and feebleness extreme | | | | | | | |
211 | The world their fancied pearl may crave | | | | | | | |
212 | Since man by sin has lost his God | | | | | | | |
213 | The pearl that worldlings covet | | | | | | | |
214 | Christian! toiling for the prize | | | | | | | |
215 | What sound is this? a song through heav'n resounding | | | | | | | |
216 | Let worldly minds the world pursue | | | | | | | |
217 | O tell me, thou life and delight of my soul | | | | | | | |
218 | Religion is a glorious treasure | | | | | | | |
219 | From ev'ry earthly pleasure | | | | | | | |
220 | Vain are all terrestrial pleasures | | | | | | | |
221 | Sometimes a light surprises | | | | | | | |
222 | The Lord is the fountain of goodness and love | | | | | | | |
223 | 'Tis religion that can give | | | | | | | |
224 | See, the lovely, blooming flow'r | | | | | | | |
225 | Awake, my soul, in joyful lays | | | | | | | |
226 | This world is all a fleeting show | | | | | | | |
227 | This world's not all a fleeting show | | | | | | | |
228 | Amazing grace! how sweet the sound | | | | | | | |
229 | How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord | | | | | | | |
230 | My drowsy powers, why sleep ye so? | | | | | | | |
231 | A weak and weary dove, with drooping wing | | | | | | | |
232 | Gracious Redeemer, shake | | | | | | | |
233 | I left the God of truth and light | | | | | | | |
234 | And wilt thou yet be found | | | | | | | |
235 | How oft this wretched heart | | | | | | | |
236 | O for a closer walk with God | | | | | | | |
237 | Shed not a tear o'er your friend's early bier | | | | | | | |
238 | Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
239 | Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep | | | | | | | |
240 | Sweet is the scene where Christians die | | | | | | | |
241 | What seraph-like music falls sweet on the ear | | | | | | | |
242 | Solemn scene, though full of blessing | | | | | | | |
243 | Parting soul, the flood awaits thee | | | | | | | |
244 | What's this that steals, that steals upon my frame? | | | | | | | |
245 | The hireling, weary of his load | | | | | | | |
246 | Sister, thou wast mild and lovely | | | | | | | |
247 | I would not live alway; I ask not to stay | | | | | | | |
248 | When the spark of life is waning | | | | | | | |
249 | The child! the child! the kind old prophet said | | | | | | | |
250 | The world hath one sweet resting-place | | | | | | | |
251 | Lo! on a narrow neck of land | | | | | | | |
252 | Friend after friend departs | | | | | | | |
253 | And am I only born to die? | | | | | | | |
254 | Soon we shall see, shall see the glorious morning | | | | | | | |
255 | Lo! He comes, with clouds descending | | | | | | | |
256 | O there will be mourning | | | | | | | |
257 | And must I be to judgment brought | | | | | | | |
258 | Lift your heads, ye friends of Jesus | | | | | | | |
259 | There is a holier clime than ours | | | | | | | |
260 | Jerusalem! my happy home! | | | | | | | |
261 | There is a home, a home fadeless and bright | | | | | | | |
262 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | | | |
263 | Mid scenes of affliction, with sorrow oppress'd | | | | | | | |
264 | There is a happy land | | | | | | | |
265 | Away with our sorrow and fear | | | | | | | |
266 | There is a holy city | | | | | | | |
267 | There is a land of pure delight | | | | | | | |
268 | How sweet to reflect on those joys that await me | | | | | | | |
269 | When shall we meet again? | | | | | | | |
270 | 'Mid scenes of confusion and creature complaints | | | | | | | |
271 | A home in heaven! what a joyful thought | | | | | | | |
272 | Forever with the Lord! | | | | | | | |
273 | My soul's full of glory, inspiring my tongue | | | | | | | |
274 | There is a region lovelier far | | | | | | | |
275 | On Jordan's stormy banks I stand | | | | | | | |
276 | There is a place of waveless rest | | | | | | | |
277 | O land of rest! for thee I sigh | | | | | | | |
278 | This world is poor from shore to shore | | | | | | | |
279 | From every stormy wind that blows | | | | | | | |
280 | How bless'd the Sabbath evening time | | | | | | | |
281 | I love to steal a while away | | | | | | | |
282 | Prayer is appointed to convey | | | | | | | |
283 | Far from my thoughts, vain world be gone | | | | | | | |
284 | Calm Sabbath eve! how bless'd the hour! | | | | | | | |
285 | How charming is the place | | | | | | | |
286 | How lovely the place where the Saviour appears | | | | | | | |
287 | From all that's mortal, all that's vain | | | | | | | |
288 | Christians, brethren, ere we part | | | | | | | |
289 | Thou Son of God, whose flaming eyes | | | | | | | |
290 | Up, Christian, up, take wings and fly | | | | | | | |
291 | What various hindrances we meet | | | | | | | |
292 | I love thy kingdom, Lord | | | | | | | |
293 | Softly fades the twilight ray | | | | | | | |
294 | Prayer is the soul's sincere desire | | | | | | | |
295 | How sweet to leave the world a while | | | | | | | |
296 | Zion, arise and shine | | | | | | | |
297 | May every pagan knee | | | | | | | |
298 | From Greenland's icy mountains | | | | | | | |
299 | 'Tis built on a rock, and the tempest may rave | | | | | | | |
300 | Roll on, thou mighty ocean | | | | | | | |