Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a' that;
The coward slave we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Our toils obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden grey and a' that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that,
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel shew, and a' that;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king of men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that;
For a' that and a' that,
His ribband, star, and a' that;
The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.
A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities and a' that;
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks than a' that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a' that,
That sense and worth o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That man to man, the warld o'er,
Shall brithers be for a' that.