"They'll clear out roads, cut down the beautiful trees, and tear up everything.

They'll drive away the birds and spoil the cathedral.

When they have done their worst, then all these mills close here will follow in and take out the cheap timber.
Then the landowners will dig a few ditches, build some fires, and in two summers more the Limberlost will be in corn and potatoes." They looked at each other, and groaned despairingly in unison.
"You like it, too," said Freckles.
"Yes," said the Angel, "I love it.

Your room is a little piece right out of the heart of fairyland, and the cathedral is God's work, not yours.
You only found it and opened the door after He had it completed.

The birds, flowers, and vines are all so lovely.