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