For Janice:

From every stormy wind that blows,

From every swelling tide of woes,

There is a calm, a sweet retreat;

'Tis found before the mercy-seat.

There is a place where mercy sheds

The oil of gladness on our heads,

A place than all beside more sweet:

It is the heavenly mercy-seat.

There is a spot where souls unite,

And saint meets saint in heavenly light;

Though sundered far, by faith they meet

Before the common mercy-seat.

Ah, whither could we flee for aid

When tempted, desolate, dismayed?

Or how the hosts of hell defeat,

Had suffering saints no mercy-seat?

Thither by faith we'd upward soar,

Let time and sense seem all no more;

For freely God our souls can greet

Where glory crowns the mercy-seat.

#246 by H.Stowell