Seven Angels

I dreamt of a prince
Seated in a clearing in a beautiful wood
Where all was peace, and all seemed good
‘Neath trumpets of sunshine
In this dream of mine
Music surrounded him, though only the heart could hear
And as if floating, I sought to draw near
But before I could move, came the April snow
And the prince had to go
‘Ere seven angels did sing
That the prince was home, and serving the King

by VICTOR WILKIE

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