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