It Is Well With My Soul
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, it is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Tho Satin should buffet,
tho trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
that Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
and has shed His own blood for my soul,
it is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, it is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
My sin, O the bliss of this glorious tho’t,
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, it is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
And, the 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, it is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul
Horatio G. Spafford, 1828 – 1888
Written on his way to comfort his wife after the death of their four children at sea.