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 beside more sweet;
It is the blood-stained mercy-seat.
3 There is a spot where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend;
Though sunder'd far, by faith they meet
Around the common mercy-seat.
4 There, there, on eagles' wings we soar,
And time and sense seem all no more;
And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | From every stormy wind that blows |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1871 |