The storm-tones died away, and, turning toward the east, I beheld the countless hosts of the forests hushed and tranquil, towering above one another on the slopes of the hills like a devout audience. The setting sun filled them with amber light, and seemed to say, while they listened, "My peace I give unto you."
This comforting contemplative tone, however, takes a beating in a student draft that transcribes the quote thus: "My peach I give unto you."
But I'll take it! I've been sitting in my office reading and responding to drafts all afternoon, so I'll welcome any excuse for a good old-fashioned guffaw!