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.

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-Stained 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.

There, There, On Eagle Wings We Soar,
And Sense And Sin Molest No More;
And Heaven Comes Down Our Souls To Greet,
And Glory Crowns The Mercy-Seat !

Oh, Let My Hand Forget Her Skill,
My Tongue Be Silent, Cold, And Still,
This Bounding Heart Forget To Beat,
If I Forget The Mercy-Seat !