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466 The Mercy-Seat

From ev’ry stormy wind that blows,
From ev’ry swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat
’Tis found before the mercy-seat!

There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads;
A place of all on earth, most 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! wither could we flee for aid,
When tempted, desolate, dismayed? 
Or how the hosts of hell defeat,
Had suff'ring saints no mercy-seat.

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