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