Troubled in spirit this week, I happened upon this beautiful hymn in the old Methodist Hymnal. It was written by a rural pastor, Hugh Stowell, and published in The Winter's Wreath (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 blood bought mercy seat.
There is a scene where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend;
Tho' sundered far, by faith they meet
Around one common mercy seat.