Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who secure within can say,
'Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine,
The joys I have possesed, in spite of Fate, are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.'
(Dryden from Horace)
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Lunchtime drinking may do nothing for one's liver, but it can do wonders for one's self-esteem and peace of mind, especially when a philosophic landlord graces the wall with improving Classical sentiments like these.
The extract above is from Horace, translated by John Dryden (1631–1700) in Odes (I, 9). It appears in the Barony on Broughton Street where it has brought solace to, and encouraged maudlin self-justification in, countless half-cut fans of Frank Sinatra's My Way for roughly a year.
Thankfully, there wasn't space to continue with Horace's more sobering prediction in the next verse of financial ruin and politically incorrect puffing, neither of which would have cheered customers or the wholly innocent and unsuspecting customer photographed here. (You'll just have to look it up for yourself.)
Spurtle understands the Barony may have plans to replace Dryden's words in the near future. Can readers suggest interesting alternatives?