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