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