Tom: G
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Is there for ho-nest po-ver-ty, That hangs his head, an' a' that, The
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co-ward slave, we pass him by; We dare be poor for a' that. For
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a' that, an' a' that, Our toils ob-scured, and a' that, The
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rank is but the gui-nea stamp; The man's a gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoodin grey, an' a' that ?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that,
Their tinsel show. an' a' that,
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king of men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that,
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that,
The man of independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that.
A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that,
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guide faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities an' a' that,
The pith o'sense, an' pride o'worth,
Are higher rank 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,
Shall bear the gree, an' a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That man to man, the world o'er,
Shall brithers be for a' that.
