Chapter 383 of 1414 · 83 words · ~1 min read

LXXIII.

[These lines seem to owe their origin to the precept of Mickle.

"The present moment is our ain, The next we never saw."]

Here's a bottle and an honest friend! What wad you wish for mair, man? Wha kens before his life may end, What his share may be o' care, man? Then catch the moments as they fly, And use them as ye ought, man? Believe me, happiness is shy, And comes not ay when sought, man.

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