it raining, little flower Is

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