# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
1 | They gave to Thee | | | | | | | |
2 | My soul, there is a countrie | | | | | | | |
3 | O love divine! how sweet thou art! | | | | | | | |
4 | "Allah, Allah!" cried the sick man | | | | | | | |
6 | That which makes us have no need | | | | | | | |
8 | If Virtue be thy guide | | | | | | | |
9 | Walk in the light!--so thou shalt know | | | | | | | |
10 | Veil, Lord, mine eyes till she be past | | | | | | | |
11 | What shall I do lest life in silence pass? | | | | | | | |
12 | Dear, secret greenness! nurst below | | | | | | | |
13 | There is a pure and peaceful wave | | | | | | | |
15 | Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth | | | | | | | |
16 | Sometime, O Lord,! at least in show | | | | | | | |
17 | Oft have I wished a traveller to be | | | | | | | |
18 | Why doth ambition so the mind distresse | | | | | | | |
20 | Companion none is like | | | | | | | |
21a | Give me my scallop-shell of quiet | | | | | | | |
21b | But what, or who are we [alas] | | | | | | | |
22 | In vain do men | | | | | | | |
23 | As ere I down am couched there | | | | | | | |
25 | Till love appear, we live in anxious doubt | | | | | | | |
26 | Love divine its word hath spoken | | | | | | | |
28 | How happy is it and how sweet | | | | | | | |
30 | There is a plant that in its cell | | | | | | | |
32 | Breathe thoughts of pity over a brother's fall | | | | | | | |
33 | And is there care in Heaven? | | | | | | | |
34 | My little maiden of four years old | | | | | | | |
35 | She stood outside the gate of heaven | | | | | | | |
37 | 'Tis not the skill of human art | | | | | | | |
38 | No outward mark we have to know | | | | | | | |
39 | His courtiers of the Caliph crave | | | | | | | |
41 | Who keepeth not God's word, yet saith | | | | | | | |
42 | Arise! ye lingering saints, arise! | | | | | | | |
44 | Up, Christian, up!--and sleep'st thou still? | | | | | | | |
45 | O not to fill the mouth of fame | | | | | | | |
46 | It is not they who idly dwell | | | | | | | |
48 | Lord, I have lain | | | | | | | |
49 | Nothing but leaves; the spirit grieves | | | | | | | |
50 | Why dost thou talk of death, laddie? | | | | | | | |
51 | O say not we through life must struggle | | | | | | | |
53 | The pilgrim and stranger, who, through the day | | | | | | | |
54a | Come, blessed of my heavenly Father, come! | | | | | | | |
54b | Is this a Fast, to keep | | | | | | | |
56 | Grand rough old Martin Luther | | | | | | | |
57 | That so thy blessed birth, O Christ | | | | | | | |
58 | This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign | | | | | | | |
60 | Still hope! still act! Be sure that life | | | | | | | |
61 | Mortal! on our azure pathway | | | | | | | |
64 | Joy of my life, while left me here! | | | | | | | |
65 | Not as all other women are | | | | | | | |
68 | Late to our town there came a maid | | | | | | | |
70 | Of life's past woes the fading trace | | | | | | | |
71 | The modest front of this small floor | | | | | | | |
72 | A man there came, whence none could tell | | | | | | | |
74 | Alas these visits rare and rude | | | | | | | |
75 | Peace, muttering thoughts! and do not grudge to keep | | | | | | | |
76 | Some think there is no earthly state | | | | | | | |
79 | Day by day the manna fell | | | | | | | |
80 | O years gone down into the past | | | | | | | |
83 | I dwell in grace's courts | | | | | | | |
86 | Discourage not thyself, my soul | | | | | | | |
87 | When words are weak and foes encount'ring strong | | | | | | | |
89 | Say, Reader! canst thou hear and not complain | | | | | | | |
90 | Sweet-voiced Hope, thy fine discourse | | | | | | | |
93 | The night was made for cooling shade | | | | | | | |
95 | We ask for Peace, O Lord! | | | | | | | |
96 | What pleases God, O pious soul | | | | | | | |
99 | What cheering words are these | | | | | | | |
100 | When we cannot see our way | | | | | | | |
101 | He bids us come; His voice we know | | | | | | | |
102 | Whate'er my God ordains is right | | | | | | | |
104 | I say to thee, do thou repeat | | | | | | | |
105 | 'Twas when the sea's tremendous roar | | | | | | | |
107 | Grace does not steel the faithful heart | | | | | | | |
109 | Lord, it belongs not to my care | | | | | | | |
110 | Peace has unveiled her smiling face | | | | | | | |
111 | O peace of God, sweet peace of God! | | | | | | | |
113 | What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil | | | | | | | |
114a | Lord, shall we grumble when thy flames do scourge us? | | | | | | | |
114b | Tremble not, though darkly gather | | | | | | | |
115 | In trouble and in grief, O God | | | | | | | |
116 | My Jesus, as Thou wilt! | | | | | | | |
119 | Long plunged in sorrow, I resign | | | | | | | |
120 | Courage, my sorely-tempted heart! | | | | | | | |
121 | Now darkness over all is spread | | | | | | | |
123 | Children of God, who pacing slow | | | | | | | |
124 | Peace, peace: it is not so. Thou dost miscall | | | | | | | |
125 | When all the year our fields are fresh and green | | | | | | | |
127 | Nothing resting in its own completeness | | | | | | | |
128 | Sweet voices! seldom mortal ear | | | | | | | |
131 | When I can trust my all with God | | | | | | | |
133 | Dear Jesus, give me patience here | | | | | | | |
134 | Unchangeable, Almighty Lord | | | | | | | |
135 | A gentle Angel walketh throughout a world of woe | | | | | | | |
136 | Pain's furnace-heat within me quivers | | | | | | | |
138 | Angels shall free the feet from stain, to their own hue of snow | | | | | | | |
139 | Wait! for the day is breaking | | | | | | | |
140 | "Jesus' hour is not yet come" | | | | | | | |
141 | A little while, and every fear | | | | | | | |
142 | High hopes that burned like stars sublime | | | | | | | |