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