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. It Is Well With My Soul, Horatio Spafford, Believer, lawyer, businessman, hymnist (1828 – 1888).

Horatio Spafford penned these remarkable lyrics in the midst of unfathomable tragedy and sorrow. His wife and four daughters were on a trans-Atlantic voyage in 1873, when their ship, the Ville du Havre, collided with another ship and sunk within twelve minutes. All four daughters perished. This followed the earlier loss of his four year old son from scarlet fever, and much of his business being destroyed in the great Chicago fire of 1871. Through it all Horatio’s faith in God never faltered.

Enroute to England to meet his grieving wife, the captain of the ship summoned him to the bridge and explained that they were passing over the spot where the Ville du Havre had sunk, and where his daughters had died. It is reported that Spafford returned to his cabin and wrote the hymn “It Is Well With My Soul.” Other accounts say that it was written at a later date. Nevertheless, the voyage was obviously one of deep suffering and was the inspiration of the moving and well-loved hymn.

Here is the most common rendition (the full original version is in the footnote below):

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.

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

My sin, oh, the bliss 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!

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

And Lord, haste the day when the 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.

Footnote: Original version:

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: It is well with my soul,
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 the 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 Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my 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!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul!