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