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