# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
d1 | A business which requires a screen | | | | | | | |
d2 | A little childish voice is stilled | | | | | | | |
d3 | Ah what joy there will be | | | | | | | |
d4 | All hail the power of Jesus' name, Let angels prostrate fall | | | | | | | |
d5 | All hail, the temperance army | | | | | | | |
d6 | Awake, O freeman at the bugle blast | | | | | | | |
d7 | Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love | | | | | | | |
d8 | Call them in, the lost and lonely | | | | | | | |
d9 | Don't you see the white cloud of ballots | | | | | | | |
d10 | Fight for prohibition, gird our armor on | | | | | | | |
d11 | From far and near this shout we hear | | | | | | | |
d12 | Hail, the temperance reformation | | | | | | | |
d13 | I entered once a home of care | | | | | | | |
d14 | I'm as proken hearted Deutcherman | | | | | | | |
d15 | In this world of sin and sorrow | | | | | | | |
d16 | I've joined a prohibition club | | | | | | | |
d17 | Jesus, Lover [Savior] of my soul, Let me to thy bosom [refuge] fly | | | | | | | |
d18 | Joy to the world, the Lord is [has] come | | | | | | | |
d19 | Let's vote, yes, vote as we pray, yes, pray | | | | | | | |
d20 | My faith looks up to thee, Thou Lamb of Calvary | | | | | | | |
d21 | My Republican slippers am laid away | | | | | | | |
d22 | My wife and I don't live alone | | | | | | | |
d23 | O the day has come at last | | | | | | | |
d24 | Of all the strange things that we know | | | | | | | |
d25 | Republicans and Democrats, what you gwine to do | | | | | | | |
d26 | Savior, do not pass me by | | | | | | | |
d27 | Savior, while on earth I tarry | | | | | | | |
d28 | Sweet temperance 'tis of thee | | | | | | | |
d29 | The Lord is my Father and I am his child | | | | | | | |
d30 | The Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied | | | | | | | |
d31 | The morning light is breaking; the darkness disappears | | | | | | | |
d32 | The Republican party awoke one morn | | | | | | | |
d33 | There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel's vein [veins] | | | | | | | |
d34 | There was an old codger who sat on the fence | | | | | | | |
d35 | There'll be joy, glad joy ringing | | | | | | | |
d36 | There's a time that is coming at last | | | | | | | |
d37 | There's no light in the window for me | | | | | | | |
d38 | They tell us that the woods are full | | | | | | | |
d39 | Those temperance men may do all they can | | | | | | | |
d40 | 'Tis the God that fulfills | | | | | | | |
d41 | 'Twas nigh to a bar that had long been made | | | | | | | |
d42 | Watchman, tell us of the night | | | | | | | |
d43 | We are cunning license advocates | | | | | | | |
d44 | We have heard the wail of women | | | | | | | |
d45 | We're tenting tonight on the new camp ground | | | | | | | |
d46 | What ails the bloody shirt | | | | | | | |
d47 | Who shall abide in thy church on earth | | | | | | | |
d48 | You old brandy bottle, I've [we] loved you too long | | | | | | | |
[This hymnal is not yet complete - may be missing texts or tunes]