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?