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