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