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