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