452. L. M. Stowell. The Mercy-seat. 1 From every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat; 'Tis found before the mercy-seat. 2 There is a place were Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads, -- A place of all on earth most sweet; It is the heavenly mercy-seat. 3 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. 4 There, there, on eagle wings we soar, And sin and sense molest no more; And heaven comes down our souls to greet, And glory crowns the mercy-seat.
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