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