| # | Text | Tune |  |  |  |  |  |  |
|---|
| d1 | A cruel old King from a castle strong | | | | | | | |
| d2 | A rummy, fat and sleek, stood in his retreat | | | | | | | |
| d3 | Along in November, when chill | | | | | | | |
| d4 | Counties here and counties there | | | | | | | |
| d5 | Down in a room all cozy and bright | | | | | | | |
| d6 | From run's destructive snare | | | | | | | |
| d7 | Hark, the sound of bitter weeping | | | | | | | |
| d8 | He who tarries at the wine cup | | | | | | | |
| d9 | Hear the temperance call, freemen | | | | | | | |
| d10 | I remember well a cottage | | | | | | | |
| d11 | I took a trip into the camp of whiskey | | | | | | | |
| d12 | If you'd banish sin and sorrow | | | | | | | |
| d13 | In the prison cell I sit Thinking, mother dear of you | | | | | | | |
| d14 | Lift up the temperance banner That banner pure and white | | | | | | | |
| d15 | Mine eyes have seen the glory | | | | | | | |
| d16 | Mourn for the thousands slain | | | | | | | |
| d17 | My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty | | | | | | | |
| d18 | No license is the thing we need | | | | | | | |
| d19 | Now, a man is surely crazy when he drinks | | | | | | | |
| d20 | O barley-corn Johnny, yez played me | | | | | | | |
| d21 | O Columbia, the gem of the ocean | | | | | | | |
| d22 | O de Brewer's big hosses, comin' down de road | | | | | | | |
| d23 | O de prohibition band wagon's rollin' right along | | | | | | | |
| d24 | O have you seen the evils that intemperance hath wrought | | | | | | | |
| d25 | O land of our glory, rise, rise in thy might | | | | | | | |
| d26 | O mister brewer man, what you gwine to do | | | | | | | |
| d27 | O my comrades in this conflict of the fight against the wrong | | | | | | | |
| d28 | O sing a song of our firesides and our friends | | | | | | | |
| d29 | O tempted one, could you but know | | | | | | | |
| d30 | O the men are so easy, the devil said | | | | | | | |
| d31 | O we intend this woe to end | | | | | | | |
| d32 | O what you gwine to say when de great day comes | | | | | | | |
| d33 | Once on a time there lived a king | | | | | | | |
| d34 | Our cause is just and at the righteous bidding | | | | | | | |
| d35 | Poor old booze is losing all his friends | | | | | | | |
| d36 | Rally to our standard in this fight today | | | | | | | |
| d37 | Rescue the perishing, care for the dying | | | | | | | |
| d38 | Speed, speed the happy day now marching on its way | | | | | | | |
| d39 | Standing for the homes we love | | | | | | | |
| d40 | The first to come was good ole Maine | | | | | | | |
| d41 | The old saloon has had its day | | | | | | | |
| d42 | The plain handwriting's on the wall | | | | | | | |
| d43 | The temperance train is coming | | | | | | | |
| d44 | There are mighty waves of sentiment | | | | | | | |
| d45 | There's a patient little woman here below | | | | | | | |
| d46 | There's poison in the flowing bowl | | | | | | | |
| d47 | This nation's badly muddled up | | | | | | | |
| d48 | 'Tis a solemn thought to think | | | | | | | |
| d49 | To aid each other and befriend | | | | | | | |
| d50 | Way down upon a little alley, far far from home | | | | | | | |
| d51 | We are on the temperance railroad speeding through the | | | | | | | |
| d52 | We are out for prohibition | | | | | | | |
| d53 | We are soldiers in the temperance army | | | | | | | |
| d54 | We don't know vot we's going to do | | | | | | | |
| d55 | We'll do our best and ever fight | | | | | | | |
| d56 | What means this mighty volume of sound | | | | | | | |
| d57 | What's all the stir, neighbor | | | | | | | |
| d58 | When all the slaves of rum are free | | | | | | | |
| d59 | Whilst hordes are out to hustle | | | | | | | |
| d60 | You're taking just a glass a day | | | | | | | |
My Starred Hymns
My FlexScores
My Hymnals
My Purchased Files
