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