Hymn 299
From every stormy wind that blows
Ninu gbogbo ìji ti nja
- 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 besides more sweet;
It is the blood-stained mercy-seat. - There is a spot where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend,
Though sunder’d far by faith they meet
Around 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? - There, there on eagle 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. Amin.