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220
AMY SUTHERLAND.
My sweetheart's bright as the rising sun,
And cold as the waning moon;
And hard as the stones in the water-course
'Neath the dust and glare of noon.
Then a health to the glittering gold!
A health to the wealth untold!
A health, my lads, to the fairest of maids,
A health to the glittering gold!
Amy Sutherland.
