When peace, like a river, attendeth our way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever our lot, Thou has taught us to say,
It is well, it is well, with our soul.
It is well, with our soul,
It is well, with our soul,
It is well, it is well, with our soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded our helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for our soul.
our sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
our sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and we bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O our soul!
For us, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above us shall roll,
No pang shall be ours, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to our soul.
But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when our 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 our soul.