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; Though 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. |