452. L. M. Stowell. The Mercy-seat.
1 From every stormy wind that blows,
From every swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat;
'Tis found before the mercy-seat.
2 There is a place were Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads, --
A place of all on earth most sweet;
It is the heavenly 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 eagle wings we soar,
And sin and sense molest no more;
And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.