From every stormy wind that blows

317 Retreat. L. M.

1 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.

2 There is a place where Jesus sheds
   The oil of gladness on our heads;
   A place than all beside more sweet:
   It is the blood-bought 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 Ah, there on eagle wings we soar,
   Where sin and sense molest no more;
   For heaven comes down our souls to greet,
   And glory crowns the mercy seat.
                         Hugh Stowell
                         The Methodist Hymnal 1939 edition

<idle musing>
Seems there are different versions of this hymn. It occurs in over 1200 hymnals (although I don't remember singing it). Here's some additonal verses from hymnary.org

3 Ah! whither could we fly for aid,
   When tempted, desolate, dismay'd?
   Or how the host of hell defeat,
   Had suff'ring saints no mercy-seat?

5 O 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.

</idle musing>