When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

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 trial
should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

And, Lord haste the day
When the 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.

Words: Horatio G. Spafford Music: Philip P. Bliss