From every stormy wind that blows,
From
every swelling tide of woes,
There
is a calm, a sure retreat;
’Tis
found beneath the mercy seat.
2
There
is a place where Jesus sheds,
The
oil of gladness on our heads,
A
place than all besides more sweet;
It
is the blood bought mercy seat.
3
There
is a scene where spirits blend,
Where
friend holds fellowship with friend;
Though
sundered far, by faith they meet
Around
one common mercy seat.
4
There,
there, on eagles’ wings we soar,
And
the earthly cares molest no more,
And
heaven comes down, our souls to greet,
And
glory crowns the mercy seat.
5
Ah,
wither should we flee for aid,
When
tempted, desolate, dismayed?
Or
how the host of sin defeat,
Had
suffering saints no mercy seat?