When peace, like a river, 
attendeth my way.
When sorrows 
like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, 
thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, 
with my soul. 

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, 
with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, 
though trials should come.
Let this blessed 
assurance control,
that Christ has regarded 
my helpless estate,
and hath shed his own blood 
for my soul. 

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, 
with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss 
of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part 
but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, 
and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, 
O my soul! 

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, 
with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day 
when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back 
as a scroll.
The trump shall resound, 
and the Lord shall descend!
Even so, 
it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, 
with my soul.