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