# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
1 | All hail the power of Jesus' name! | | | | | | | |
2 | What heavenly music do I hear | | | | | | | |
3 | Holy Sabbath! day of rest! | | | | | | | |
4 | Hark! my gay friends, that solemn toll | | | | | | | |
5 | From every stormy wind that blows | | | | | | | |
6 | Blest are the humble souls that see | | | | | | | |
7 | I love the holy Son of God | | | | | | | |
8 | While nature was sinking in stillness to rest | | | | | | | |
9 | When we our wearied limbs to rest | | | | | | | |
10 | Oh! land of rest, for thee I sigh | | | | | | | |
11 | Hail, heavenly love, which first began | | | | | | | |
12 | Since Man by sin, has lost his God | | | | | | | |
13 | My days, my weeks, my months, my years | | | | | | | |
14 | My Christian friends, in bonds of love | | | | | | | |
15 | To leave my dear friends, and with neighbors to part | | | | | | | |
16 | Far from my thoughts vain world begone | | | | | | | |
17 | Now in the heat of youthful blood | | | | | | | |
18 | Stoop down my tho'ts that us'd to rise | | | | | | | |
19 | Call'd to a sense of duty | | | | | | | |
20 | The broken ties of happier days | | | | | | | |
21 | Come all ye mourning souls | | | | | | | |
22 | Religion is a glorious treasure | | | | | | | |
23 | Praise ye the Lord! Ye mortals, raise | | | | | | | |
24 | Hail ye sighing sons of sorrow | | | | | | | |
25 | When marshall'd on the nightly plain | | | | | | | |
26 | Hail the day so long expected! | | | | | | | |
27 | O turn ye! O turn ye! for why will ye die? | | | | | | | |
28 | How sweet to reflect on those joys that await me | | | | | | | |
29 | The ways of religion true pleasures afford | | | | | | | |
30 | When torn is the bosom by sorrow or care | | | | | | | |
31 | The chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll the fire | | | | | | | |
32 | Sister, thou wast mild and lovely | | | | | | | |
33 | Ye who know your sins forgiven | | | | | | | |
34 | Hail the day that saw him rise | | | | | | | |
35 | The morning light is breaking | | | | | | | |
36 | From Greenland's icy mountains | | | | | | | |
37 | Yes, my native land I love thee | | | | | | | |
38 | The dews lay dark on Hermon | | | | | | | |
39 | Hail, ye heralds of salvation | | | | | | | |
40 | Night wraps the land where Jesus spoke | | | | | | | |
41 | From o'er the Rocky Mountains | | | | | | | |
42 | From the cross uplifted high | | | | | | | |
43 | Shepherd of Israel, thou didst lead | | | | | | | |
44 | Watchman! tell us of the night | | | | | | | |
45 | Wake, isles of the south! your redemption is near | | | | | | | |
46 | See how great a flame aspires | | | | | | | |
47 | Behold, the mountain of the Lord | | | | | | | |
48 | On the mountain's top appearing | | | | | | | |
49 | Ye messengers of Christ | | | | | | | |
50 | Lift up your eyes, ye sons of light! | | | | | | | |
51 | From Niger's dubious billow | | | | | | | |
52 | Farewell, mother! Jesus calls me | | | | | | | |
53 | Yes, my native land, I love thee | | | | | | | |
54 | From Afric's burning, arid sands | | | | | | | |
55 | Soon may the last glad song arise | | | | | | | |
56 | Hark! I hear the voice of anguish | | | | | | | |
57 | Come, Christian brethren! ere we part | | | | | | | |
58 | Assembled at thy great command | | | | | | | |
59 | Hark! the glad sound! the Saviour comes | | | | | | | |
60 | Hark!--the song of jubilee | | | | | | | |
61 | Stand up, my soul, shake off thy fears | | | | | | | |
62 | Brethren, while we sojourn here | | | | | | | |
63 | "Break every yoke," the Gospel cries | | | | | | | |
64 | Equip me for the war | | | | | | | |
65 | Lord deliver! thou canst save | | | | | | | |
66 | Jesus shall reign where'er the sun | | | | | | | |
67 | God of Israel's faithful three | | | | | | | |
68 | From foes that would the land devour | | | | | | | |
69 | Hear ye the mighty rushing? | | | | | | | |
70 | "Awake, my people!" saith your God! | | | | | | | |
71 | Awake my soul! stretch every nerve | | | | | | | |
72 | O God of Freedom! bless this night | | | | | | | |
73 | Steel me to shame, reproach, disgrace | | | | | | | |
74 | O Let the prisoners' mournful sighs | | | | | | | |
75 | Think of our country's glory | | | | | | | |
76 | With thy pure dews and rains | | | | | | | |
77 | When injured Afric's captive claim | | | | | | | |
78 | Awake, Jerusalem, awake | | | | | | | |
79 | From Georgia's southern mountains | | | | | | | |
80 | Daughters of the Pilgrim Sires | | | | | | | |
81 | Daughters of pity, tune the lay | | | | | | | |
82 | Let the floods clap their hands! | | | | | | | |
83 | On Java's rich and fertile ground | | | | | | | |
84 | I stood amid the place of graves | | | | | | | |
85 | A Beacon has been lighted | | | | | | | |
86 | Poor mourning souls in deep distress | | | | | | | |
87 | When for eternal worlds we stear | | | | | | | |
88 | As on the cross the Saviour hung | | | | | | | |
89 | Jesus, I my cross have taken | | | | | | | |
90 | What's this that steals, that steals upon my frame? | | | | | | | |
91 | Why should I be affrighted by pestilence or war | | | | | | | |
92 | Many woes had Christ endured | | | | | | | |
93 | When shall I see the day | | | | | | | |
94 | I would not live alway: I ask not to stay | | | | | | | |
95 | Tempted, tossed, troubled spirit | | | | | | | |
96 | Jesus! the visions of thy face | | | | | | | |
97 | There is an hour of peaceful rest | | | | | | | |
98 | What sound is this salutes my ear | | | | | | | |
99 | Hail, God, the Father, heavenly light | | | | | | | |
100 | Hark, brethren, don't you hear the sound? | | | | | | | |