56.  The Mercy Seat

1
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.

2
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.

3
O! whither could we flee for aid,
When tempted, desolate, dismayed?
Or how would hosts of foes defeat,
Had suff’ring saints no mercy seat?

4
There, there on eagle wings we soar,
And sin and sense molest no more;
And heav’n comes down our souls to greet,
While glory crowns the mercy seat.