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 beneath 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; Tho' sunder'd far—by faith they meet Around one common Mercy Seat.

Ah! whither could we flee for aid, When tempted, desolate, dismay'd— Or how the hosts of hell defeat, Had suff 'ring saints no Mercy Seat?