When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll:
Whatever my lot, Thous hast taught me to say,
It is well. It is well with my soul.
It is well (It is well) with my soul. (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, tho’ trials shall come,
Let this blest assurance control.
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin–oh, the bliss of the glorious thought-
My sin–not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross and I bear it no more.
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh, my soul.
And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be roll’d back as a scroll.
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
“Even so”–it is well with my soul.
H.G. Spafford/P.P. Bliss