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, it is well, with my soul.
Tho Satan should buffet, tho trials should come,
Let this blest assurrance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well, with my soul
it is well, it is well, with my soul.
My Sin O the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I hear it no more:
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O 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, it is well, with my soul.
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