By A Collection of Hymns

      L.M.
      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,
      And friend holds fellowship with friend;
      Though sundered far, by faith they meet
      Around one common mercy-seat.

      4 There, there on eagle-wing we soar,
      And time and sense seem all no more;
      And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
      And glory crowns the mercy-seat.