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.
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.
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.
There, there, on eagles’ wings we soar,
And time and sense seem all no more;
And heav’n comes down, our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy seat.
