# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
d201 | Songs of praise the angels sang | | | | | | | |
d202 | Soon may [shall] the last glad song arise | | | | | | | |
d203 | Souls in heathen darkness lying | | | | | | | |
d204 | Sow in the morn thy [the] seed, At eve | | | | | | | |
d205 | Sun of my soul [our souls], thou [my] [O] Savior [Father] dear | | | | | | | |
d206 | Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer | | | | | | | |
d207 | Tell me the old, old story of unseen things above | | | | | | | |
d208 | Tell us now, the joys of heaven | | | | | | | |
d209 | That awful day will surely come | | | | | | | |
d210 | The day is past and gone, the evening shades appear | | | | | | | |
d211 | The leaves around decay | | | | | | | |
d212 | The light of Sabbath eve is fading | | | | | | | |
d213 | The Lord himself, the mighty Lord | | | | | | | |
d214 | The Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied | | | | | | | |
d215 | The morning light is breaking; the darkness disappears | | | | | | | |
d216 | The race that long in darkness pined | | | | | | | |
d217 | There is a better world, they say | | | | | | | |
d218 | There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel's vein [veins] | | | | | | | |
d219 | There is a glorious world above, Where sorrow is unknown, A city bright, a land of love | | | | | | | |
d220 | There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign | | | | | | | |
d221 | There is a little, lonely fold | | | | | | | |
d222 | There is a path that leads to God, All others go astray | | | | | | | |
d223 | There is a stream whose gentle flow | | | | | | | |
d224 | There's not a tint that paints the rose | | | | | | | |
d225 | They took my Savior's name in vain | | | | | | | |
d226 | This is a precious book indeed | | | | | | | |
d227 | Thou great Creator, sovereign Lord | | | | | | | |
d228 | Thus far the Lord hath [has] led me on | | | | | | | |
d229 | Time is earnest, passing by | | | | | | | |
d230 | 'Tis religion that can give sweetest pleasures | | | | | | | |
d231 | To thee, O blessed Savior | | | | | | | |
d232 | To thy father and thy mother | | | | | | | |
d233 | Tossed upon life's raging billow | | | | | | | |
d234 | We are on the deep | | | | | | | |
d235 | We know there's a bright and glorious home | | | | | | | |
d236 | We plough the fertile meadows | | | | | | | |
d237 | We sing of the realms of the blest | | | | | | | |
d238 | Weep for the fallen, hang your heads in sorrow | | | | | | | |
d239 | Weeping will not save me [you], though my face | | | | | | | |
d240 | We're looking unto Jesus | | | | | | | |
d241 | We've listed in a [the] holy war | | | | | | | |
d242 | What led the Son of God | | | | | | | |
d243 | What various hindrances we meet | | | | | | | |
d244 | When I can read my title clear | | | | | | | |
d245 | When shall the voice of singing flow | | | | | | | |
d246 | When this passing world is done | | | | | | | |
d247 | When thy mortal life is fled | | | | | | | |
d248 | When, where, and how shall I die | | | | | | | |
d249 | Where the faded flower shall freshen | | | | | | | |
d250 | While life prolongs its precious light | | | | | | | |
d251 | While with ceaseless [careless] course the sun | | | | | | | |
d252 | Who hath sorrows, who hath woes, Who hath babblings? | | | | | | | |
d253 | Why did Jesus come from heaven | | | | | | | |
d254 | Why should we covet the joy of a day | | | | | | | |
d255 | Work, for the night is coming, work through the morning hours | | | | | | | |
d256 | Wouldst thou be blest | | | | | | | |
d257 | Yes, my native land, I love thee | | | | | | | |
d258 | Yes, there are little ones in heaven | | | | | | | |
d259 | Yes, we trust the day is breaking | | | | | | | |
d260 | Young men and maidens, raise | | | | | | | |
d261 | Zion [Sion] stands by [with] hills surrounded | | | | | | | |