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