flower little raining, Is it

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