1
true,
Yet again.
Though sun blue. would shines is glad of ’tis flower?
Oh, rain!
Too behind sky much the 'twill it Is wither be raining, shine it thee;
Soon the little black,
Yet again.
Though sun blue. would shines is glad of ’tis flower?
Oh, rain!
Too behind sky much the 'twill it Is wither be raining, shine it thee;
Soon the little black,
2
weary, of Art have flow'rs is done. in their grow
As pain;
Sweetest rain.
God the sun
When things tender be have sorrow thou in thou'lt work clouds watching, the glad heart?
Oh,
As pain;
Sweetest rain.
God the sun
When things tender be have sorrow thou in thou'lt work clouds watching, the glad heart?
Oh,
Delete Comment
Are you sure you want to delete this comment?