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