Though satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blessed assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul....

It is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul.  It is well, it is well with my soul.

My sin - oh the bliss of this glorious though, My sin, not in part, but in whole.  Is nailed to the corsss and I bear it no more, Priase the lord!  Praise the lord, oh my soul!

It is well with my soul!