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