# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
d101 | Shout the tidings of salvation to the aged and the young | | | | | | | |
d102 | Soft be the gently breathing notes | | | | | | | |
d103 | Stand up for Jesus, Christian stand | | | | | | | |
d104 | Stand up, my soul [our souls], shake off thy [your] fears | | | | | | | |
d105 | Sweet Sabbath day, dear Sabbath day | | | | | | | |
d106 | That glorious sea before the throne | | | | | | | |
d107 | The angels are calling me, sister | | | | | | | |
d108 | The Christmas bells are ringing loud and clear | | | | | | | |
d109 | The Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied | | | | | | | |
d110 | The Savior always walked | | | | | | | |
d111 | The Savior is our surety | | | | | | | |
d112 | There is a beautiful world Where saints and angels sing | | | | | | | |
d113 | There is a solemn question | | | | | | | |
d114 | There is an hour of hallowed peace | | | | | | | |
d115 | There is no friend like Jesus, so gentle, kind and true | | | | | | | |
d116 | There's a home for the blest on that beautiful shore | | | | | | | |
d117 | 'Tis a tender call that comes to me | | | | | | | |
d118 | Two little lambs in the upper fold | | | | | | | |
d119 | Unfurl the gospel banner | | | | | | | |
d120 | Wake the loud ringing chorus | | | | | | | |
d121 | We are marching homeward to that land | | | | | | | |
d122 | We are sailing o'er life's ocean | | | | | | | |
d123 | We are waiting by the river | | | | | | | |
d124 | We bring no glittering treasures, no gems | | | | | | | |
d125 | We shall meet in that beautiful land | | | | | | | |
d126 | We talk of the realms of the blest | | | | | | | |
d127 | We the little children of the Sabbath school | | | | | | | |
d128 | We won't [we'll not] give up the Bible, God's holy book of truth | | | | | | | |
d129 | Welcome, delightful morn, Thou [Sweet] day of sacred rest | | | | | | | |
d130 | Welcome, welcome, Sabbath morning | | | | | | | |
d131 | What book ought I to love the best | | | | | | | |
d132 | What can I give to Jesus | | | | | | | |
d133 | What do the angels dream of, mother | | | | | | | |
d134 | What is life, 'tis but [all] a vapor | | | | | | | |
d135 | When brightly breaks the morning | | | | | | | |
d136 | When shall I wear a golden crown | | | | | | | |
d137 | When shall we meet again, Meet ne'er [more] to sever | | | | | | | |
d138 | When we cross the crystal river | | | | | | | |
d139 | Words are things of little cost, quickly spoken, quickly lost | | | | | | | |
d140 | Work, for the night is coming, work through the morning hours | | | | | | | |
d141 | You have talents, dear children | | | | | | | |
[This hymnal is not yet complete - may be missing texts or tunes]