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