Chris Rice - It is well

^CWhen peace, like a river, ^Fattendeth my ^Cway, When ^Amsorrows like ^Dsea billows ^Groll; ^CWhatever my ^Flot, You have ^Dtaught me to ^Gsay, It is ^Cwell, it is ^Fwell, with my ^Csoul.

^CIt is well ^F with my ^Csoul, It is ^Dwell, it is ^Gwell, with ^Cmy soul.

^CThough Satan should buffet, ^Fthough trials should ^Ccome, ^AmLet this blessed ^Dassurance ^Gcontrol, That ^CChrist has ^Fregarded my ^Dhelpless ^Gestate, And has ^Cshed His own ^Fblood for ^Cmy soul.

^CMy sin, oh, the bliss of ^Fthis glorious ^Cthought ^AmMy sin, not in ^Dpart but the ^Gwhole, Is ^Cnailed to the ^Fcross, and I^D bear it no ^Gmore, Praise the ^CLord, praise the^F Lord, O my ^Csoul

^CAnd Lord, haste the day when my ^Ffaith shall be ^Csight, ^AmThe clouds be rolled ^Dback as a ^Gscroll; ^CThe trump shall ^Fresound, and the ^DLord shall ^Gdescend, Even ^Cso, it is ^Fwell with my ^Csoul.