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