The country lies in deep repose
Fred hviler over land og by

The country lies in deep repose,
and peace rules hearth and home,
while silver clouds the moon inclose
and through the heavens roam.

The lake without a ripple lies
in heaven’s soft embrace;
from yonder hills sweet voices rise
and thank the Lord of grace.

While earth succumbs to peaceful rest
and finds from care relief,
I bid you, stranger, in my breast:
Forget your fear and grief.

Make peace with every soul that here
may not you understand;
behold, from heaven’s lofty sphere
peace falls upon the land!

An angel, standing by your side
with healing on his wings,
to you, when falls the eventide,
sweet peace from heaven brings.

O, learn of him your evening song:
Peace be to every soul!
Though here he may not tarry long,
he leads to yonder goal.

Peace with each heart, both far and near,
where restlessness may gnaw!
Peace with the few that hold me dear
and those I never saw.