← The Mercy Seat Millennial Harp (1843) · p. 22

The Mercy Seat

From every stormy wind that blows

1

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

Ah ! whither should we flee for aid
When tempted, desolate, dismayed?
Or how the hosts of hell defeat,
Had suffering saints no Mercy Seat?

5

There, there on angel's wings we soar,
And sin and sense seem all no more;
The Lord comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the Mercy Seat.

6

O Let my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold and still;
This bounding heart forget to beat
If I forget the Mercy Seat.