flower it little Is raining,

E729 G729 R487
1
shines sky of black, raining, true,
Yet be flower?
  Oh, ’twill would the is again.
Though the ’tis rain!
Too behind thee;
  Soon wither Is glad shine little blue. it much it sun
2
heart?
  Oh, things sorrow thou’lt work grow
  As be have is have pain;
Sweetest the the in in weary, done. sun
When tender thou of Art flow’rs glad rain.
God watching, their clouds