# | Text | Tune | | | | | | |
d1 | And dare I say, Welcome to me | | | | | | | |
d2 | And dare ye deem God's ire must cease | | | | | | | |
d3 | And shrink ye still | | | | | | | |
d4 | And they who grudge the Omnipotent | | | | | | | |
d5 | And where is now the Tishbite | | | | | | | |
d6 | And wouldst thou reach, rash scholar mine | | | | | | | |
d7 | Are the gates sure? is every bolt made fast? | | | | | | | |
d8 | Are these the tracks of some unearthly friend | | | | | | | |
d9 | Away, or ere the Lord break forth | | | | | | | |
d10 | Banished the house of sacred rest | | | | | | | |
d11 | Beautiful flowers round Wisdom's secret well | | | | | | | |
d12 | Behold your armory, sword and lightning shaft | | | | | | | |
d13 | Bid thou thy time! Watch with meek eyes the race of pride | | | | | | | |
d14 | But faith is cold, and willful men are strong | | | | | | | |
d15 | But louder yet the heavens shall ring | | | | | | | |
d16 | But sadder strains, and direr bodings dark | | | | | | | |
d17 | By your Lord's creative breath | | | | | | | |
d18 | Cease, stranger, cease those piercing notes | | | | | | | |
d19 | Christ bade his followers take the sword | | | | | | | |
d20 | Christ only, of God's messengers to man | | | | | | | |
d21 | Christ's church was holiest in her youthful days | | | | | | | |
d22 | Come, twinkle in my lonely room | | | | | | | |
d23 | Dear sainted friends, I call not you | | | | | | | |
d24 | Deep in his meditative bower | | | | | | | |
d25 | Do not their souls, who 'neath the altar wait | | | | | | | |
d26 | Dread glimpses, even in gospel times, have been | | | | | | | |
d27 | Dull thunders moan around the temple rock | | | | | | | |
d28 | Each morn and eve, the golden keys | | | | | | | |
d29 | Each trial has its weight | | | | | | | |
d30 | Ere yet I left home's youthful shrine | | | | | | | |
d31 | Faint not, and fret not, for threatened woe | | | | | | | |
d32 | Far sadder musing on the traveller falls | | | | | | | |
d33 | Fear not, for he hath sworn | | | | | | | |
d34 | France, I will think of thee | | | | | | | |
d35 | Full many an eve, and many a morn | | | | | | | |
d36 | Give any boon for peace | | | | | | | |
d37 | God of our Isr'l, by our favored sires | | | | | | | |
d38 | Hail, gladdening Light, of his pure glory poured | | | | | | | |
d39 | Hail, glorious lights, kindled at God's own urn | | | | | | | |
d40 | He spake, he died and rose again | | | | | | | |
d41 | Heard ye the unerring Judge is at the door | | | | | | | |
d42 | Hid are the saints of God | | | | | | | |
d43 | High on the stately wall The spear of Arvad hung | | | | | | | |
d44 | How can I keep my Christmas feast | | | | | | | |
d45 | How didst thou start, thou holy baptist | | | | | | | |
d46 | How long endure this priestly scorn | | | | | | | |
d47 | How long, O Lord of grace, Must languish | | | | | | | |
d48 | How shall a child of God fulfil | | | | | | | |
d49 | I bow at Jesus' name | | | | | | | |
d50 | I dreamed that, with a passionate complaint | | | | | | | |
d51 | I have been honored and obeyed | | | | | | | |
d52 | I sat beneath an olive's branches grey | | | | | | | |
d53 | I saw thee once, and nought discerned | | | | | | | |
d54 | I thought to meet no more | | | | | | | |
d55 | If e'er I fall beneath thy rod | | | | | | | |
d56 | If waiting by the time-crowned halls | | | | | | | |
d57 | In childhood, when with eager eyes | | | | | | | |
d58 | Into God's word as in a palace fair | | | | | | | |
d59 | Is he not near, look up and see | | | | | | | |
d60 | Is there no sound about our altars heard | | | | | | | |
d61 | Latest born of Jesse's race | | | | | | | |
d62 | Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom | | | | | | | |
d63 | Let others sing thy heathen praise | | | | | | | |
d64 | Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed | | | | | | | |
d65 | Lord, in this dust thy sovereign voice | | | | | | | |
d66 | Man is permitted much to scan and learn | | | | | | | |
d67 | Many the guileless years the patriarch spent | | | | | | | |
d68 | Methought I saw a face divinely fair | | | | | | | |
d69 | Mid Balak's magic fires | | | | | | | |
d70 | Mortal, if e'er thy spirits faint | | | | | | | |
d71 | Moses, the patriot fierce | | | | | | | |
d72 | Mother, and hast thou left thy child With winds unpitying | | | | | | | |
d73 | My Father's hope, my childhood's dream | | | | | | | |
d74 | My home is now a thousand mile away | | | | | | | |
d75 | My smile is bright, my glance is free | | | | | | | |
d76 | No joy of mine to invite the thunder down | | | | | | | |
d77 | Nor wants there seraph warnings, morn and eve | | | | | | | |
d78 | Now is the autumn of the tree of life | | | | | | | |
d79 | O aged saint, far off I heard the praises | | | | | | | |
d80 | O comrade bold of toil and pain | | | | | | | |
d81 | O Father, list a sinner's call | | | | | | | |
d82 | O heart of fire, misjudged by wilful man | | | | | | | |
d83 | O Lord, and Christ, thy churches of the south | | | | | | | |
d84 | O Lord, I hear, but can it be | | | | | | | |
d85 | O Lord, when sin's close marshalled line | | | | | | | |
d86 | O miserable power to dreams allowed | | | | | | | |
d87 | O mother church of Rome, why has thy heart Beat so untuly towards thy norythern child | | | | | | | |
d88 | O piteous race, fearful to look upon | | | | | | | |
d89 | O prophet, tell me not of peace | | | | | | | |
d90 | O purest semblance of the Eternal Son | | | | | | | |
d91 | O rail not at our brethren of the north | | | | | | | |
d92 | O say not thou art left of God | | | | | | | |
d93 | O specious sin and Satan's subtle snare | | | | | | | |
d94 | O surely Scorner is his name | | | | | | | |
d95 | O sweetly timed, as e'er was gentle hand | | | | | | | |
d96 | O that thy creed were sound | | | | | | | |
d97 | Once as I brooded o'er my guilty state | | | | | | | |
d98 | Once cast with men of language strange | | | | | | | |
d99 | One only may to life | | | | | | | |
d100 | Peace loving man, of humble heart and true | | | | | | | |