it Is raining, flower little

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