Thursdays Before the Throne

From ev'ry stormy wind that blows,

From every swelling tide of woes,

There is a calm, a safe retreat

'Tis found before the 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?

~John Newton~