# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
201 | Father of light! conduct my feet | | | | | | | |
202 | Be it my only wisdom here | | | | | | | |
203 | How sweet, how heavenly, is the sight | | | | | | | |
204 | How sweet to be allowed to pray | | | | | | | |
205 | HAPPY the meek, whose gentle breast | | | | | | | |
206 | Wherefore should man, frail child of clay | | | | | | | |
207 | If high or low our station be | | | | | | | |
208 | How blest the sacred tie that binds | | | | | | | |
209 | Thine, Lord, these heavens on high | | | | | | | |
210 | Awake, my soul! lift up thine eyes | | | | | | | |
211 | If solid happiness we prize | | | | | | | |
212 | How beautiful the sight | | | | | | | |
213 | Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish | | | | | | | |
214 | Great Author of all nature's frame! | | | | | | | |
215 | What was it made my bosom swell | | | | | | | |
216 | Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright | | | | | | | |
217 | Deem not that they are blest alone | | | | | | | |
218 | My God! I thank thee; may no thought | | | | | | | |
219 | Gently fall the dews of eve | | | | | | | |
220 | Affliction's faded form draws nigh | | | | | | | |
221 | Behold the lily's silken vest | | | | | | | |
222 | Think gently of the erring one! | | | | | | | |
223 | Speak gently, - it is better far | | | | | | | |
224 | A little word, in kindness spoken | | | | | | | |
225 | Speak not harshly;--much of care | | | | | | | |
226 | Speak gently to the little child, so guileless and so free | | | | | | | |
227 | A young rose in summer time | | | | | | | |
228 | Poison drops of care and sorrow | | | | | | | |
229 | Tell me not, in mournful numbers | | | | | | | |
230 | All around us, fair with flowers | | | | | | | |
231 | Hast thou, 'midst life's empty noises | | | | | | | |
232 | Sweet is the pleasure | | | | | | | |
233 | How happy is he born and taught | | | | | | | |
234 | Scorn not the slightest word or deed | | | | | | | |
235 | Thus said Jesus:-- "Go and do | | | | | | | |
236 | Who is thy neighbour? He whom thou | | | | | | | |
237 | Teach me, my God and King | | | | | | | |
238 | O, know ye not that ye | | | | | | | |
239 | Sow in the morn thy seed | | | | | | | |
240 | How many ways the young may find | | | | | | | |
241 | The morning hours of cheerful light | | | | | | | |
242 | What if the little rain should say | | | | | | | |
243 | He who walks in virtue's way | | | | | | | |
244 | My son, be this thy simple plan | | | | | | | |
245 | Joy! joy! a year is born | | | | | | | |
246 | Time speeds away--away--away! | | | | | | | |
247 | Our Father! through the coming year | | | | | | | |
248 | O God! to thee our hearts would pay | | | | | | | |
249 | Like shadows gliding o'er the plain | | | | | | | |
250 | Gently glides the stream of life | | | | | | | |
251 | A minute,-- how soon it is flown! | | | | | | | |
252 | God of eternity, from thee | | | | | | | |
253 | Another hand is beckoning us | | | | | | | |
254 | Dear as thou wert, and justly dear | | | | | | | |
255 | Lowly and solemn be | | | | | | | |
256 | The morning flowers display their sweets | | | | | | | |
257 | Calm on the bosom of thy God | | | | | | | |
258 | Sister, thou wast mild and lovely | | | | | | | |
259 | Death has been here, and borne away | | | | | | | |
260 | Beneath our feet and o'er our head | | | | | | | |
261 | Look around thee,--see Decay | | | | | | | |
262 | The young, the lovely, pass away | | | | | | | |
263 | Blessed, blessed are the dead | | | | | | | |
264 | Where, for a thousand miles | | | | | | | |
265 | In the green realm of summer,--this pomp of the trees | | | | | | | |
266 | The freshly blooming flowers | | | | | | | |
267 | With joy once more we hail thee | | | | | | | |
268 | In pleasant lands have fallen the lines | | | | | | | |
269 | Beneath Thy trees to-day we meet | | | | | | | |
270 | My country, 't is of thee | | | | | | | |
271 | God bless our native land! | | | | | | | |
272 | To Him from whom our blessings flow | | | | | | | |
273 | Lord, while for all mankind we pray | | | | | | | |
274 | Now pray we for our country | | | | | | | |
275 | Exotic blossoms, brought to grace | | | | | | | |
276 | Sons of renownèd sires | | | | | | | |
277 | Low sinks the setting sun, the day-beams haste away | | | | | | | |
278 | O thou, at whose dread name we bend | | | | | | | |
279 | O thou, whose presence went before | | | | | | | |
280 | Our fathers, Lord, to seek a spot | | | | | | | |
281 | When, driven by oppression's rod | | | | | | | |
282 | Now, Lord, we part awhile | | | | | | | |
283 | The breaking waves dashed high | | | | | | | |
284 | Hush the loud cannon's roar | | | | | | | |
285 | God's spirit smiles in flowers | | | | | | | |
286 | There's music, music everywhere | | | | | | | |
287 | Dewy honeysuckles springing | | | | | | | |
288 | The light pours down from heaven | | | | | | | |
289 | An offering at the shrine of power | | | | | | | |
290 | Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside | | | | | | | |
291 | Mark, the soft-falling snow | | | | | | | |
292 | Soft are the fruitful showers that bring | | | | | | | |
293 | In life's gay spring, enchanting hours! | | | | | | | |
294 | Into the sunshine, full of the light | | | | | | | |
295 | Up to the throne of God is borne | | | | | | | |
296 | At first her mother earth she holdeth dear | | | | | | | |
297 | O spirit, freed from earth | | | | | | | |
298 | O ignorant, poor man! what dost thou bear | | | | | | | |
299 | "Flow on, thou shining river" | | | | | | | |
300 | 'T is winter's jubilee!--this day | | | | | | | |