flower raining, little Is it

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