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