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