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