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