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