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