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