flower it little raining, Is

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