H. Stowell

L.M.

FROM every stormy wind that blows,

From every swelling tide of woes,

There is a calm, a safe 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 beside more sweet;

It is the blood-stained mercy-seat.

3

There is a spot where spirits blend,

And friend holds fellowship with friend;

Though sundered far, by faith they meet

Around one common mercy-seat.

4

There, there on eagle-wing we soar,

And time and sense seem all no more;

And heaven comes down our souls to greet,

And glory crowns the mercy-seat.