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527 – From Every Stormy Wind

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

There, there, on angel’s wings we soar,

And earthly cares molest no more,

And heaven comes down our souls to greet,

And glory crowns the mercy seat.

5

Ah! whither should we flee for aid,

When tempted, desolate dismayed?

Or how the hosts of sin defeat,

Had suffering saints no mercy seat?