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