Words: Hugh Stowell
Music: Thomas Hastings
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;
Though sundered far, by faith they meet
Around one common mercy seat.
There, there on eagle’s wings we soar,
And sin and sense seem all no more,
And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy seat.