The poem describes a dream the speaker had about their rose tree. In the dream, angels stripped the rose tree bare but then carefully reconstructed it, leaf by leaf and bud by bud, until it was perfect and blooming again. The speaker concludes that angels must work unseen to care for and perfect all things, whether we are awake or asleep.
The poem describes a dream the speaker had about their rose tree. In the dream, angels stripped the rose tree bare but then carefully reconstructed it, leaf by leaf and bud by bud, until it was perfect and blooming again. The speaker concludes that angels must work unseen to care for and perfect all things, whether we are awake or asleep.
The poem describes a dream the speaker had about their rose tree. In the dream, angels stripped the rose tree bare but then carefully reconstructed it, leaf by leaf and bud by bud, until it was perfect and blooming again. The speaker concludes that angels must work unseen to care for and perfect all things, whether we are awake or asleep.
Often have I longed to know How thy tender leaves were moulded How thy buds are burst, and blow. I have watered, sunned, and trained thee, And have watched thee many an hour ; Yet I never could discover How a bud becomes a flower. So, last night, I thought about thee On my pillow, till at last I was gone in quiet slumber. And a dream before me passed. In it, I beheld my rose-tree Stripped of flower, and bud and leaf, While thy naked stalk and branches Filled me with surprise and grief. Then, methought, I wept to see thee Spoiled of all that made thee dear, Till a band of smiling angels Mildly shining, hovered near. Gently as they gathered round thee All in silence, one of them Laid his fair, soft fingers on thee, Pulling leaves from out the stem. One by one thy twigs he furnished With a dress of foliage green ; While another angel followed, Bringing buds the leaves between. Then came one the buds to open ; He their silken rolls unsheathed, Whilst the one who tints the roses Through their opening foldings breathed. Then the angel of the odors Filled each golden-bottomed cell,
Till, between the parting petals,
Free on air the fragrance fell. Lifting then their shining pinions, Quick the angels passed from sight, Leaving, where aloft they vanished. But a stream of fading light. There I heard sweet strains of music, And their voices far above, Dying in the azure distance, Naming thee a Gift of Love ! And my rose-tree stood before me, Finished thus by angel hands ; Perfect in its bloom and fragrance Beautiful, as now it stands ! Hence, whenever I behold thee, I shall think of angels too ; And the countless works of goodness They descend on earth to do. All unseen and silent, round us, Careful they their watches keep, Whether we may wake, or slumber ; Guardian angels never sleep !