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