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