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