# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
401 | Servant of God, well done! | | | | | | | |
402 | Thou art gone to the grave but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
403 | Returning, not departing | | | | | | | |
404 | If I must die, oh, let me die | | | | | | | |
405 | Teach me the measure of my days | | | | | | | |
406 | Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound | | | | | | | |
407 | And let this feeble body fail | | | | | | | |
408 | And must this body die? | | | | | | | |
409 | How solemn the signal I hear | | | | | | | |
410 | Thee we adore, eternal name | | | | | | | |
411 | When the hand of death shall sever | | | | | | | |
412 | Lord, what a feeble piece | | | | | | | |
413 | Our days, alas! our mortal days | | | | | | | |
414 | Time, like an ever-rolling stream | | | | | | | |
415 | Great God, I own thy sentence just | | | | | | | |
416 | My soul, come meditate the day | | | | | | | |
417 | How swiftly the torrent rolls | | | | | | | |
418 | Let others boast how strong they be | | | | | | | |
419 | My days, my weeks, my months, my years | | | | | | | |
420 | Beneath our feet and o'er our head | | | | | | | |
421 | Soon thy sun will set in Eden | | | | | | | |
422 | Earthly home, adieu, adieu | | | | | | | |
423 | As flows the rapid river | | | | | | | |
424 | Adown the peaceful river | | | | | | | |
425 | My head and stay is called away | | | | | | | |
426 | O death the poor man's dearest friend | | | | | | | |
427 | Oh, what is beauty's pow'r? | | | | | | | |
428 | As shadows cast by cloud and sun | | | | | | | |
429 | Almighty Maker of my frame | | | | | | | |
430 | Ready for my earthen bed | | | | | | | |
431 | Oh, weep not for the joys that fade | | | | | | | |
432 | Death floats on every passing breeze | | | | | | | |
433 | The time draws nigh, when from the clouds | | | | | | | |
434 | Watchman, tell me, does the morning | | | | | | | |
435 | Must Jesus bear the cross alone | | | | | | | |
436 | Today the Savior rose | | | | | | | |
437 | Angels, roll the rock away | | | | | | | |
438 | "The Lord is risen indeed" | | | | | | | |
439 | When downward to the darksome tomb | | | | | | | |
440 | Soon shall the trump of God | | | | | | | |
441 | All nature dies, and lives again | | | | | | | |
442 | As Jesus died, and rose again | | | | | | | |
443 | We speak of the realms of the blest | | | | | | | |
444 | Heav'n is a place of rest from sin | | | | | | | |
445 | What if our bark, o'er life's rough wave | | | | | | | |
446 | A few more years shall roll | | | | | | | |
447 | As pilgrims in this vale of tears | | | | | | | |
448 | There shall thy glory, O our God | | | | | | | |
449 | My days are gliding swiftly by | | | | | | | |
450 | There is a land above | | | | | | | |
451 | In the Christian's home in glory | | | | | | | |
452 | There is a place where my hopes are staid | | | | | | | |
453 | A home in heaven, what a joyful thought | | | | | | | |
454 | High in yonder realms of light | | | | | | | |
455 | Jerusalem, my happy home | | | | | | | |
456 | Far from these narrow scenes of night | | | | | | | |
457 | O land of rest, for thee I sigh | | | | | | | |
458 | There is a land of pure delight | | | | | | | |
459 | On Jordan's stormy banks I stand | | | | | | | |
460 | Oh, there's a better world on high | | | | | | | |
461 | Know, my soul, thy full salvation | | | | | | | |
462 | Your harps, ye trembling saints | | | | | | | |
463 | How sweet to reflect on those joys that await me | | | | | | | |
464 | Mourning and drooping here I lie | | | | | | | |
465 | There is a home beyond the vale | | | | | | | |
466 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | | | |
467 | And must I be to judgment brought | | | | | | | |
468 | The day of wrath, that dreadful day | | | | | | | |
469 | Wak'd by the trumpet's sound | | | | | | | |
470 | And will the Judge descend? | | | | | | | |
471 | Day of judgment, day of wonders | | | | | | | |
472 | What poor, despised company | | | | | | | |
473 | The righteousness, th'atoning blood | | | | | | | |
474 | Be firm, be bold, be strong, be true | | | | | | | |
475 | Am I a soldier of the cross | | | | | | | |
476 | Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone | | | | | | | |
477 | When I can read my title clear | | | | | | | |
478 | Grace! 'tis a charming sound | | | | | | | |
479 | How happy is the Christian's state! | | | | | | | |
480 | Dark and thorny is the desert | | | | | | | |
481 | From all that's mortal, all that's vain | | | | | | | |
482 | I'm not ashamed to own my Lord | | | | | | | |
483 | Rock of Ages, cleft for me | | | | | | | |
484 | Oh, when shall I see Jesus | | | | | | | |
485 | Grace, 'tis a most delightful theme | | | | | | | |
486 | Blest are the humble souls that see | | | | | | | |
487 | Salvation, oh, the joyful sound | | | | | | | |
488 | Thou Shepherd of Israel and mine | | | | | | | |
489 | Religion is the chief concern | | | | | | | |
490 | My soul, be on thy guard | | | | | | | |
491 | Jesus, lover of my soul | | | | | | | |
492 | The Lord into his garden came | | | | | | | |
493 | Arise, my soul, arise | | | | | | | |
494 | There is a happy land | | | | | | | |
495 | The law commands, and makes us know | | | | | | | |
496 | When waves of trouble round me swell | | | | | | | |
497 | Come, heav'nly love, inspire my song | | | | | | | |
498 | Nearer, my God, to thee | | | | | | | |
499 | Oh! for the robe of whiteness | | | | | | | |
500 | Brighter be the sky of Eden | | | | | | | |