Who formed me man forbids my fear;
The Lord hath called me by my name;
The Lord protects, forever near:
His blood for me did once atone,
And still he loves and guards his own.
When, passing through the watery deep,
I ask in faith his promised aid,
The waves an awful distance keep,
And shrink from my devoted head:
Fearless, their violence I dare;
They cannot harm for God is there!
To him mine eye of faith I turn,
And through the fire pursue my way;
The fire forgets its power to burn,
The lambent flames around me play;
I own his power, accept the sign,
And shout to prove the Saviour mine.
Still nigh me, O my Saviour, stand,
And guard in fierce temptation’s hour;
Hide in the hollow of thy hand;
Show forth in me thy saving power;
Still be thy arms my sure defense,
Nor earth, nor hell, shall pluck me thence.
Charles Wesley
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 bloodstained mercy-seat.
There is a spot where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend,
Though sundered 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.
O may my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold, and still,
This bounding heart forget to beat,
If I forget the mercy-seat.
Rev. Hugh Stowell
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