# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
801 | O thou who hast spread out the skies | | | | | | | |
802 | Heaven, mighty ocean, heave | | | | | | | |
803 | Kindred in Christ, for his dear sake | | | | | | | |
804 | O it is joy in one to meet | | | | | | | |
805 | Let us join, 'tis as God commands | | | | | | | |
806 | O come and let the assembly all | | | | | | | |
807 | As the sun's enlivening eye | | | | | | | |
808 | The vineyard of the Lord | | | | | | | |
809 | Come, let us strike our harps afresh | | | | | | | |
810 | When forced to part from those we love | | | | | | | |
811 | When shall we meet again? | | | | | | | |
812 | Help us to help each other, Lord | | | | | | | |
813 | Thy presence, everlasting God | | | | | | | |
814 | The God of glory walks his round | | | | | | | |
815 | How lovely are thy dwellings, Lord | | | | | | | |
816 | Joy to the world! the Lord is come! | | | | | | | |
817 | Father, hear us when we pray | | | | | | | |
818 | How sweet the melting lay | | | | | | | |
819 | O 'tis sweet to mingle, where | | | | | | | |
820 | Lo they come from east and west | | | | | | | |
821 | Peace be to this habitation | | | | | | | |
822 | O 'tis a scene the heart to move | | | | | | | |
823 | Ever sounds with holy hymns | | | | | | | |
824 | Our God, where'er thy people meet | | | | | | | |
825 | Father, we bless the gentle care | | | | | | | |
826 | When quiet in my house I sit | | | | | | | |
827 | Lo what an entertaining sight | | | | | | | |
828 | A holy air is breathing round | | | | | | | |
829 | Now, Lord, we part awhile | | | | | | | |
830 | O sweetly breathe the lyres above | | | | | | | |
831 | One prayer I have, all prayers in one | | | | | | | |
832 | A voice upon the midnight air | | | | | | | |
833 | O thou who driest the mourner's tear | | | | | | | |
834 | Now the shades of night are gone | | | | | | | |
835 | Serene, I laid me down | | | | | | | |
836 | God of the morning, at thy voice | | | | | | | |
837 | Again, from calm and sweet repose | | | | | | | |
838 | Awake, my soul, and with the sun | | | | | | | |
839 | God of my life, my morning song | | | | | | | |
840 | While this day its light is shedding | | | | | | | |
841 | In sleep's serene oblivion laid | | | | | | | |
842 | Delightful is the task to sing | | | | | | | |
843 | What secret hand, at morning light | | | | | | | |
844 | When, streaming from the eastern skies | | | | | | | |
845 | On thee, each morning, O my God | | | | | | | |
846 | To prayer, to prayer, for the morning breaks | | | | | | | |
847 | My God, how endless is thy love! | | | | | | | |
848 | Father, thy paternal care | | | | | | | |
849 | Glory to thee, my God, this night | | | | | | | |
850 | When morning's first and hallowed ray | | | | | | | |
851 | Father, breathe an evening blessing | | | | | | | |
852 | On the dewy breath of even | | | | | | | |
853 | The heavenly spheres to thee, O God | | | | | | | |
854 | Softly now the light of day | | | | | | | |
855 | Another day is past, the hours | | | | | | | |
856 | The mellow eve is gliding | | | | | | | |
857 | Now, from labor and from care | | | | | | | |
858 | The hours of evening close | | | | | | | |
859 | Sweet is the last, the parting ray | | | | | | | |
860 | Through the day thy love has spared us | | | | | | | |
861 | Day unto day doth utter speech | | | | | | | |
862 | Reviving sleep, thy sheltering wing | | | | | | | |
863 | My God, I now from sleep awake | | | | | | | |
864 | Thus far the Lord has led me on | | | | | | | |
865 | O there's a better world on high | | | | | | | |
866 | Though faint and sick, and worn away | | | | | | | |
867 | God, that madest earth and Heaven | | | | | | | |
868 | O thou, before whose gracious throne | | | | | | | |
869 | Whatever dims thy sense of truth | | | | | | | |
870 | God of the rolling orbs above | | | | | | | |
871 | An offering at the shrine of power | | | | | | | |
872 | Flung to the heedless winds | | | | | | | |
873 | Toiling through the livelong night | | | | | | | |
874 | Let coward guilt, with pallid fear | | | | | | | |
875 | My God, all nature owns thy sway | | | | | | | |
876 | How happy is he born and taught | | | | | | | |
877 | Thou sweet-gliding Kedron, by thy silver stream | | | | | | | |
878 | All men are equal in their birth | | | | | | | |
879 | How blest is he whose tranquil mind | | | | | | | |
880 | Open, Lord, my inward ear | | | | | | | |
881 | Let deepest silence all around | | | | | | | |
882 | When on her maker's bosom | | | | | | | |
883 | Not for the summer's hour alone | | | | | | | |
884 | Swift as the winged arrow flies | | | | | | | |
885 | God of our fathers 'tis thy hand | | | | | | | |
886 | Let the still air rejoice | | | | | | | |
887 | Praise, for the glorious light | | | | | | | |
888 | Hark, the voice of love and mercy | | | | | | | |
889 | He has gone to his God, he has gone to his home | | | | | | | |
890 | How cheering the thought, that the spirits in bliiss | | | | | | | |
891 | Brightest and best of the sons of the morning | | | | | | | |
892 | No war nor battle's sound was heard | | | | | | | |
893 | The breaking waves dashed high | | | | | | | |
894 | The bird that soars on highest wing | | | | | | | |
895 | All nature's works his praise declare | | | | | | | |
896 | Zeal is that pure and heavenly flame | | | | | | | |
897 | How sweet the name of Jesus sounds | | | | | | | |
898 | Now I resolve with all my heart | | | | | | | |
899 | O happy day that fixed my choice | | | | | | | |
900 | Heaven is the land where trouble cease | | | | | | | |