flower it raining, little Is

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