flower little raining, it Is

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