# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
79 | Come, all ye weary travellers | | | | | | | |
80 | Jesus, thou art the sinner's friend | | | | | | | |
81a | Come, Christians be valiant, our Jesus is near us | | | | | | | |
81b | Come, all ye young people of every relation | | | | | | | |
82 | There was a Romish lady brought up in popery | | | | | | | |
83 | Dark and thorny is the desert | | | | | | | |
84a | Come, humble sinner, in whose breast | | | | | | | |
84b | The day of the Lord--the day of salvation | | | | | | | |
85 | A story most lovely I'll tell | | | | | | | |
86 | Wake, Isles of the South! | | | | | | | |
87 | Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow | | | | | | | |
88 | Come away to the skies, My beloved, arise | | | | | | | |
89a | O tell where the Dove has flown | | | | | | | |
89b | There is a happy land | | | | | | | |
90 | The Lord into his garden comes | | | | | | | |
91 | O how I have long'd for the coming of God | | | | | | | |
92a | Father, I long, I faint to see | | | | | | | |
92b | Why should we start, or fear to die? | | | | | | | |
93 | And if you meet with troubles | | | | | | | |
94a | Come, thou fount of every blessing | | | | | | | |
94b | No more shall the sound of the war-whoop be heard | | | | | | | |
95 | Soldiers, go, but not to claim | | | | | | | |
96 | Young people all, attention give | | | | | | | |
97 | He comes! he comes! to judge the world | | | | | | | |
98 | My days, my weeks, my months, my years | | | | | | | |
99 | I sing a song which doth belong | | | | | | | |
100 | Burst, ye emerald gates, and bring | | | | | | | |
101 | How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord | | | | | | | |
102 | Vain, delusive world, adieu | | | | | | | |
103 | Brethren, we have met to worship | | | | | | | |
104 | When I can read my title clear | | | | | | | |
105 | Come and taste along with me | | | | | | | |
106a | I am a stranger here below | | | | | | | |
106b | Shall men pretend to pleasure | | | | | | | |
107 | And let this feeble body fail | | | | | | | |
108 | Hark! hark! glad tidings charm our ears | | | | | | | |
109 | There's a friend above all others | | | | | | | |
110 | This world's not all a fleeting show | | | | | | | |
111 | From Greenland's icy mountains | | | | | | | |
112 | Say now, ye lovely social band | | | | | | | |
113 | Angels in shining order stand | | | | | | | |
115 | How splendid shines the morning star | | | | | | | |
118 | Hark! the jubilee is sounding | | | | | | | |
119 | Death, 'tis a melancholy day | | | | | | | |
120 | Let sinners take their course | | | | | | | |
121 | God is our refuge in distress | | | | | | | |
122 | O when shall I see Jesus | | | | | | | |
123 | Jesus, I my cross have taken | | | | | | | |
124 | How pleasant 'tis to see | | | | | | | |
125 | My gracious Redeemer I love | | | | | | | |
126 | How did his flowing tears condole | | | | | | | |
127 | O, how happy are they | | | | | | | |
128 | My soul forsakes her vain delight | | | | | | | |
129 | Mine eyes are now closing to rest | | | | | | | |
131 | See how the wicked kingdom | | | | | | | |
132 | Soldiers of the cross, arise | | | | | | | |
133 | In de dark woods, no Indian nigh | | | | | | | |
134 | I love thee, my Saviour, I love thee, my Lord | | | | | | | |
135 | Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey | | | | | | | |
136 | Hither, ye faithful, haste with songs of triumph | | | | | | | |
137 | On Jordan's stormy banks I stand | | | | | | | |
138 | How happy is the pilgrim's lot | | | | | | | |
139 | He comes! he comes! the Judge severe! | | | | | | | |
140 | Rejoice, my friends, the Lord is King | | | | | | | |
141 | Hail, Columbia! happy land! | | | | | | | |
143 | Good morning, brother pilgrim | | | | | | | |
144 | O come, come away, the Sabbath morn is passing | | | | | | | |
145 | Thou great, mysterious God unknown | | | | | | | |
146 | Hear the royal proclamation | | | | | | | |
147 | What sorrowful sounds do I hear | | | | | | | |
148 | When Gabriel's awful trump shall sound | | | | | | | |
149 | See the Lord of glory dying! | | | | | | | |
150 | Come, all ye mourning pilgrims dear | | | | | | | |
151 | The Lamb appears to wipe our tears | | | | | | | |
152 | Ye children of Jesus, who're bound for the kingdom | | | | | | | |
153a | Bless, O my soul, the living God | | | | | | | |
153b | Thou great Instructor, lest I stray | | | | | | | |
154a | Lord, what a feeble piece | | | | | | | |
154b | Welcome, sweet day of rest | | | | | | | |
155 | Hail, solitude! thou gentle queen | | | | | | | |
156 | Lift up your heads, Immanuel's friends | | | | | | | |
157 | How beauteous are their feet | | | | | | | |
158 | Farewell, farewell, farewell, my friends | | | | | | | |
159a | My soul be on thy guard | | | | | | | |
159b | Come, thou almighty King | | | | | | | |
160 | Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee | | | | | | | |
161 | O, if my soul was fomr'd for wo | | | | | | | |
162 | Great God, attend while Zion sings | | | | | | | |
163 | Young people all, attention give | | | | | | | |
164 | Along the banks where Babel's current flows | | | | | | | |
165a | Children of the heavenly King | | | | | | | |
165b | Sinner, art thou still secure? | | | | | | | |
166 | Sweet rivers of redeeming love | | | | | | | |
167 | No burning heats by day | | | | | | | |
168a | Thy priase, O Lord, shall tune the lyre | | | | | | | |
168b | Lord, when my thoughs delighted rove | | | | | | | |
169 | Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I | | | | | | | |
170 | Early, my God, without delay | | | | | | | |
172 | Show pity Lord, O Lord, forgive | | | | | | | |
173a | Sweet is the work, my God, my King | | | | | | | |