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.
Refrain
2
My
sin, -oh, the joy of this glorious thought-
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!
3
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.