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