raining, flower it little Is

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