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