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