# | Text | Tune |  |  |  |  |  |  |
d401 | The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl | | | | | | | |
d402 | The drunkard wastes away his strength | | | | | | | |
d403 | The good and the kind | | | | | | | |
d404 | The happy morn we hail again | | | | | | | |
d405 | The head that once was crowned with thorns | | | | | | | |
d406 | The Lord attends when children pray | | | | | | | |
d407 | The Lord is my Shepherd, How happy am I | | | | | | | |
d408 | The Lord of Sabbath let us praise, In concert with the blest | | | | | | | |
d409 | The morning flowers display their sweets | | | | | | | |
d410 | The morning light is breaking; the darkness disappears | | | | | | | |
d411 | The morning sky [sun] is bright and clear | | | | | | | |
d412 | The night comes stealing in | | | | | | | |
d413 | The praying spirit breathe | | | | | | | |
d414 | The rosy light is dawning | | | | | | | |
d415 | The Sabbath school's a place for prayer | | | | | | | |
d416 | The spacious firmament on high | | | | | | | |
d417 | The Sunday school army has gathered once more | | | | | | | |
d418 | The Sunday school how sweet the place | | | | | | | |
d419 | The Sunday school that blessed place | | | | | | | |
d420 | The Sunday school, the Sunday school Blest be the wondrous plan | | | | | | | |
d421 | The voice is hushed the gentle voice | | | | | | | |
d422 | The voice of free grace cries escape | | | | | | | |
d423 | The wanderer no more will roam | | | | | | | |
d424 | Thee we adore, eternal name, And humbly | | | | | | | |
d425 | There is a beautiful world Where saints and angels sing | | | | | | | |
d426 | There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel's vein [veins] | | | | | | | |
d427 | There is a Friend we ought to love | | | | | | | |
d428 | There is a happy land, Far, [not] far away | | | | | | | |
d429 | There is a hopeful company | | | | | | | |
d430 | There is a land mine [my] eye [eyes] hath seen | | | | | | | |
d431 | There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign | | | | | | | |
d432 | There is a path that leads to God, All others go astray | | | | | | | |
d433 | There is an eye that never sleeps | | | | | | | |
d434 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | | | |
d435 | There is no name so sweet on earth, No name so sweet in heaven | | | | | | | |
d436 | There seems a voice in every gale | | | | | | | |
d437 | There's not a star whose twinkling ray | | | | | | | |
d438 | There's not a tint that paints the rose | | | | | | | |
d439 | This book is all that's left me now | | | | | | | |
d440 | This is the day, the happy day, Which God himself hath blessed | | | | | | | |
d441 | This life is but a summer's day | | | | | | | |
d442 | This, this is the God we adore | | | | | | | |
d443 | Thou art gone to the grave but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
d444 | Thou Judge of quick and dead | | | | | | | |
d445 | Thou soft [sweet] flowing [gliding] Kedron [Cedron], by thy silver [limpid] stream | | | | | | | |
d446 | Though trouble assail us, and dangers affright | | | | | | | |
d447 | 'Tis a lesson you should heed | | | | | | | |
d448 | 'Tis midnight, and on Olive's brow | | | | | | | |
d449 | 'Tis religion that can give sweetest pleasures | | | | | | | |
d450 | To do to others as I would that they should do to me | | | | | | | |
d451 | To our Redeemer's glorious name, awake the sacred song | | | | | | | |
d452 | To the sports of the thoughtless | | | | | | | |
d453 | To thee, O blessed Savior | | | | | | | |
d454 | To thee, our God and Savior, our hearts | | | | | | | |
d455 | To us a Child of hope is born | | | | | | | |
d456 | To whom, my Savior, shall I go | | | | | | | |
d457 | Today if ye [you] will hear his voice | | | | | | | |
d458 | Today the birds, on every bough | | | | | | | |
d459 | Today we come with singing | | | | | | | |
d460 | Touch not the cup, it is death to thy [the] soul | | | | | | | |
d461 | Try us, O God, and search the ground | | | | | | | |
d462 | Vain are all terrestrial pleasures | | | | | | | |
d463 | Vain, delusive world, adieu | | | | | | | |
d464 | Very little ones are we | | | | | | | |
d465 | Wake the song of jubilee | | | | | | | |
d466 | Watchman, tell me, does the morning | | | | | | | |
d467 | Watchman, tell us of the night | | | | | | | |
d468 | We, a band of happy children | | | | | | | |
d469 | We are but young, yet we may sing | | | | | | | |
d470 | We are out on the ocean sailing | | | | | | | |
d471 | We bring no glittering treasures, no gems | | | | | | | |
d472 | We come, we come, in joyous train | | | | | | | |
d473 | We come, we come, this hallowed day | | | | | | | |
d474 | We come, we come, with loud acclaim | | | | | | | |
d475 | We come with hearts of gladness | | | | | | | |
d476 | We gather, we gather, dear [O] Jesus, to bring | | | | | | | |
d477 | We have a Father in the promised land | | | | | | | |
d478 | We have met in peace together | | | | | | | |
d479 | We love the Sabbath school | | | | | | | |
d480 | We love to go to Sabbath school | | | | | | | |
d481 | We love to sing together | | | | | | | |
d482 | We meet again in gladness | | | | | | | |
d483 | We speak of the realms of the blest | | | | | | | |
d484 | We won't [we'll not] give up the Bible, God's holy book of truth | | | | | | | |
d485 | Welcome, delightful morn, Thou [Sweet] day of sacred rest | | | | | | | |
d486 | Welcome, sweet day of rest | | | | | | | |
d487 | Welcome, sweet morn, we hail with joy | | | | | | | |
d488 | Welcome, welcome, day of rest | | | | | | | |
d489 | We'll come while yet all glowing | | | | | | | |
d490 | We'll not forget the Sunday school | | | | | | | |
d491 | We're a happy, happy band | | | | | | | |
d492 | We're bound for the land of the pure and the holy | | | | | | | |
d493 | We're going home, we've had visions bright | | | | | | | |
d494 | We're marching to the promised land | | | | | | | |
d495 | We're the lambs of the flock and no danger we fear | | | | | | | |
d496 | We're traveling home to heaven above | | | | | | | |
d497 | What is it shows my soul the way | | | | | | | |
d498 | What sound is this, a song [sound] through heaven resounding | | | | | | | |
d499 | What though the tempest hovers | | | | | | | |
d500 | What to me are earth's pleasures | | | | | | | |