“From every Stormy Wind that Blows”
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 bought mercy seat.
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.
There, there, on eagles’ 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.
Oh, 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!
Thomas Hastings was born this date 10/15/1784, at Washington, Connecticut. His dad was a medical doctor living in the country where Thomas walked six miles to school. He chose music as his career and though extremely near sighted, composed music for 1000 hymns and wrote the words for 600. Hastings also trained choirs and published some fifty collections of sacred music. He wrote the music to the above. His son, who became the president of Union Theological Seminar, paid high compliments to his father’s walk with God. Thomas Hastings died 5/15/1872, at New York City.
Separate-Holy 