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, it is well with my soul!"

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should 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 this 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, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live;

If dark hours about me shall roll,

No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life

Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.