# | Text | Tune |  |  |  |  |  |  |
501 | Brother, though from yonder sky | | | | | |  | |
502 | Clay to clay, and dust to dust | | | | | |  | |
503 | When life's tempestuous storms are o'er | | | | | |  | |
504 | Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb | | | | | |  | |
505 | Brother, rest from sin and sorrow | | | | | |  | |
506 | Why do we mourn departing friends | | | | | |  | |
507 | Why should we start and fear to die | | | | | |  | |
508 | Why, weep for those, frail child of woe | | | | | |  | |
509 | How blest the righteous when he dies | | | | | |  | |
510 | Deem not that they are blest alone | | | | | |  | |
511 | Affliction is a stormy deep | | | | | |  | |
512 | Not for the pious dead we weep | | | | | |  | |
513 | Let others boast how strong they be | | | | | |  | |
514 | Brother, thou art gone to rest | | | | | |  | |
515 | Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish | | | | | |  | |
516 | Go, spirit of the sainted dead | | | | | |  | |
517 | This place is holy ground | | | | | |  | |
518 | Naked as from the earth we came | | | | | |  | |
519 | Deathless spirit, now arise | | | | | |  | |
520 | Thou art gone to the grave | | | | | |  | |
521 | Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims | | | | | |  | |
522 | Lift not thou the wailing voice | | | | | |  | |
523 | Behold the western evening light | | | | | |  | |
524 | My God, I thank thee, may no thought | | | | | |  | |
525 | Friend after friend departs | | | | | |  | |
526 | Sweet is the thought, the promise sweet | | | | | |  | |
527 | O stay thy tears, for they are blest | | | | | |  | |
528 | I looked upon the righteous man | | | | | |  | |
529 | How sweet the hour of closing day | | | | | |  | |
530 | Cease, ye mourners, cease to languish | | | | | |  | |
531 | Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell | | | | | |  | |
532 | O for the death of those | | | | | |  | |
533 | If death our friends and us divide | | | | | |  | |
534 | There is a place of sacred rest | | | | | |  | |
535 | All nature dies, and lives again | | | | | |  | |
536 | There is a region lovelier far | | | | | |  | |
537 | There is an hour of hallowed peace | | | | | |  | |
538 | I'll praise my Maker with my breath | | | | | |  | |
539 | There is a land mine eye hath seen | | | | | |  | |
540 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | |  | |
541 | In vain the fancy strives to paint | | | | | |  | |
542 | Eternal God, how frail is man | | | | | |  | |
543 | The God of mercy will indulge | | | | | |  | |
544 | What though the arm of conquering death | | | | | |  | |
545 | Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime | | | | | |  | |
546 | Pastor, thou art from us taken | | | | | |  | |
547 | Servant of God, well done, rest | | | | | |  | |
548 | While you with mournful thoughts deplore | | | | | |  | |
549 | When called, O Lord, to mourn the doom | | | | | |  | |
550 | O for a firm and lively faith | | | | | |  | |
551 | Dark, dark indeed the grave would be | | | | | |  | |
552 | In the broad fields of heaven | | | | | |  | |
553 | Father, gathered round the bier | | | | | |  | |
554 | Brother, thou art gone before us | | | | | |  | |
555 | How short and hasty is our life | | | | | |  | |
556 | Lord, what a feeble piece | | | | | |  | |
557 | Teach me the measure of my days | | | | | |  | |
558 | As flows the rapid river | | | | | |  | |
559 | Time is winging us away | | | | | |  | |
560 | How swiftly the torrent rolls | | | | | |  | |
561 | How swift, alas, the moments fly | | | | | |  | |
562 | The hour of my departure's come | | | | | |  | |
563 | Through sorrow's night and danger's path | | | | | |  | |
564 | Like shadows gliding o'er the plain | | | | | |  | |
565 | O what is life, 'tis like a flower | | | | | |  | |
566 | Beneath our feet and o'er our head | | | | | |  | |
567 | Life is the time to serve the Lord | | | | | |  | |
568 | Alas how poor and little worth | | | | | |  | |
569 | Weak and irresolute is man | | | | | |  | |
570 | Thee we adore, eternal name | | | | | |  | |
571 | I would not live alway; I ask not to stay | | | | | |  | |
572 | Vital spark of heavenly flame | | | | | |  | |
573 | Spirit, leave thine house of clay | | | | | |  | |
574 | Hark! from the tombs a warning sound | | | | | |  | |
575 | I cannot shun the stroke of death | | | | | |  | |
576 | There is a calm for those who weep | | | | | |  | |
577 | When the vale of death appears | | | | | |  | |
578 | Through the night air stealing | | | | | |  | |
579 | When bending o'er the brink of life | | | | | |  | |
580 | Gently, my Saviour! let me down | | | | | |  | |
581 | Our sins, alas! how strong they be | | | | | |  | |
582 | My Father's house on high | | | | | |  | |
583 | Our country is Immanuel's ground | | | | | |  | |
584 | What must it be to dwell above | | | | | |  | |
585 | The dove let loose in eastern skies | | | | | |  | |
586 | When we pass through yonder river | | | | | |  | |
587 | What sinners value, I resign | | | | | |  | |
588 | Jerusalem, my happy home | | | | | |  | |
589 | O when the hours of life are past | | | | | |  | |
590 | There is a land of pure delight | | | | | |  | |
591 | High in yonder realms of light | | | | | |  | |
592 | On Jordan's stormy banks I stand | | | | | |  | |
593 | As twilight's gradual veil is spread | | | | | |  | |
594 | Far from these narrow scenes of night | | | | | |  | |
595 | O for a sweet, inspiring ray | | | | | |  | |
596 | O where shall rest be found | | | | | |  | |
597 | Who are these in bright array | | | | | |  | |
598 | I praised the earth in beauty seen | | | | | |  | |
599 | There is a house not made with hands | | | | | |  | |
600 | O most delightful hour by man | | | | | |  | |