From ev’ry stormy wind that blows,
From ev’ry 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 angels’ wings we soar,
And earthly care molest no more;
And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.

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