The Mercy Seat

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 shedsThe 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 meetAround one common Mercy Seat.

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

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.

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