From Every Stormy Wind that Blows

[127]Duke Street:

John Hatton, 1793


Thomas Hastings, 1842

Hugh Stowell, 1828

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 beside more sweet;

It is the bloodstained mercy-seat.

There is a spot where spirits blend,

Where friend holds fellowship with friend;

Though sundered far, by faith they meet

Around one common mercy-seat.

There, there, on eagles' wings we soar,

And time and sense seem all no more;

And heaven comes down, our souls to greet,

And glory crowns the mercy-seat.

through the week
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