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 8 Tak it aff and let's hae mair o't, pox on fighting, trade, and books. Let's ha'e pleasure while we're able, bring us in the meikle bowl, Plae't on the middle of the table, and let wind and weather gowl. Ca'l the drawer, let him fill it fou, as ever it can hold : O tak tent ye dinna spill it; 'us mair precious far than gold. By you've drunk a dozen bumpers, Bacchus will begin to prove Spite of Venus and her mumpers, drinking better is than love. FINIS.