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