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