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