PeaceG. HolstThe toil of day is done,Its stress and stirring cease,Falls soft a word, the gift of God.'Peace.'Opal of evening sky,Gold of the fading west,A single star shining afar.Rest.
← LibraryG. Holst · songPeaceSong 4 of 4lyrics: Alfred Henry HyattAudio diction — free with sign-inTTS in 14 languages, loop passages, slow down lines.Sign in with GoogleSongPeacelyrics: Alfred Henry HyattTheðətoiltˈɔɪlofˈɒvdaydˈeɪisˈɪzdonedˈʌn,Itsˈɪtsstressstɹˈɛsandˈændstirringstˈɜːɹɪŋceasesˈiːs,Fallsfˈɔːlzsoftsˈɒftaeɪ̯wordwˈɜːd,theðəgiftɡˈɪftofˈɒvGodɡˈɒd.'Peacepˈiːs.'Opalˈəʊpəlofˈɒveveningˈiːvnɪŋskyskˈaɪ,Goldɡˈəʊldofˈɒvtheðəfadingfˈeɪdɪŋwestwˈɛst,Aeɪ̯singlesˈɪŋɡəlstarstˈɑːshiningʃˈaɪnɪŋafarɐfˈɑː.Restɹˈɛst.