# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
401 | By the splendor in the heavens | | | | | | | |
402 | The beautiful city! Forever | | | | | | | |
403 | Always I see her in a saintly guise | | | | | | | |
404 | O night, look down through cloud and star | | | | | | | |
405 | When on my soul in nakedness | | | | | | | |
406 | If still they live, whom touch nor sight | | | | | | | |
407 | Oft have I wakened ere the spring of day | | | | | | | |
408 | The hands that do God's work are patient hands | | | | | | | |
409 | The dearest things in this fair world must change | | | | | | | |
410 | God hath so many ships upon the sea | | | | | | | |
411 | I saw in Siena pictures | | | | | | | |
412 | Why seek ye for Jehovah | | | | | | | |
413 | A morning glory bud, entangled fast | | | | | | | |
414 | If I knew it now, how strange it would seem | | | | | | | |
415 | The day is fixed that there shall come | | | | | | | |
416 | O patient Christ, when long ago | | | | | | | |
417 | Alas! that men must see | | | | | | | |
418 | O distant Christ! the crowded, darkening years | | | | | | | |
419 | Blow, golden trumpets, sweet and clear | | | | | | | |
420 | It's O my heart, my heart | | | | | | | |
421 | O soul, however sweet | | | | | | | |
422 | When mother love makes all things bright | | | | | | | |
423 | As children in a darkened hall | | | | | | | |
424 | When life and death clasp hands | | | | | | | |
425 | God first made man of common clay | | | | | | | |
426 | Brave racer, who hast sped the living light | | | | | | | |
427 | I was quick in the flesh | | | | | | | |
428 | When Eve went out from Paradise | | | | | | | |
429 | Thou heart, why dost thou lift thy voice | | | | | | | |
430 | Shall we know in the hereafter | | | | | | | |
431 | Body, I pray you, let me go | | | | | | | |
432 | Are you glad, my big brother, my deep hearted oak | | | | | | | |
433 | Under the drifted snows with weeping and holy rite | | | | | | | |
434 | Across the winter's gloom | | | | | | | |
435 | Nanac the faithful pausing once to pray | | | | | | | |
436 | Waiting on him who knows us | | | | | | | |
437 | Heart all full of heavenly haste | | | | | | | |
438 | Take temperance to thy breast | | | | | | | |
439 | Mary, the mother, sits on the hill | | | | | | | |
440 | What man can live denying his own soul | | | | | | | |
441 | Passion and pain, the outcome of despair | | | | | | | |
442 | Death is but life's renewal | | | | | | | |
443 | O children's eyes unchildlike | | | | | | | |
444 | O Spirit of love and light | | | | | | | |
445 | Lord, oft I come unto thy door | | | | | | | |
446 | A rhyme of good death's inn | | | | | | | |
447 | Not from the pestilence and storm | | | | | | | |
448 | Full armed I fought the paynim foe | | | | | | | |
449 | Sweet is the time for joyous folk | | | | | | | |
450 | Its shadow makes a sheltered place | | | | | | | |
451 | He hath not guessed Christ's agony | | | | | | | |
452 | I made the cross myself | | | | | | | |
453 | Thank God that God shall judge my soul | | | | | | | |
454 | At last, at last, O joy, O victory | | | | | | | |
455 | Down on the shadowed stream of time and tears | | | | | | | |
456 | Adieu to God | | | | | | | |
457 | A song of a white throne circled | | | | | | | |
458 | Rout and defeat on every hand | | | | | | | |
459 | He wills we may not read life's book aright | | | | | | | |
460 | Love, work thy wonted miracle today | | | | | | | |
461 | All this costly expense | | | | | | | |
462 | In the long pageant of man's destiny | | | | | | | |
463 | Our souls are sick for permanence | | | | | | | |
464 | Higher, higher, Purified by suffering's fire | | | | | | | |
465 | Their advent is as silent as their going | | | | | | | |
466 | Goodbye, I said, to my conscience | | | | | | | |
467 | I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty | | | | | | | |
468 | I stand upon the summit of my years | | | | | | | |