No man so callous but he heaves a sigh
No man so callous but he heaves a sigh
When o'er his head the wither'd cherry-flowers
Come flutt'ring down. — Who knows? the spring's soft
show'rs
May be but tears shed by the sorrowing sky.
When o'er his head the wither'd cherry-flowers
Come flutt'ring down. — Who knows? the spring's soft
show'rs
May be but tears shed by the sorrowing sky.
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