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 homely fare we dine,
Wear hodden gray and a' that,
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that;
The honest man tho' e'er so poor,
Is king o' men for a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for 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, and a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,
It's coming yet, for a' that,
That man to man, the world all o'er
Shall brothers be, for a' that.