355 – From Every Stormy Wind That Blows

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; Tho sundered far, by faith they meet Around one common mercy seat.

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

Ah!, there, on eagles’ wings we soar, And sin and sense molest no more; And heaven comes down, our souls to greet, while glory crowns the mercy seat.