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