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