SongA Mans a Man for a that
Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an a that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a that!
For a that, an a that.
Our toils obscure an a that,
The rank is but the guineas stamp,
The Mans the gowd for a that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Mans a Man for a that:
For a that, and a that,
Their tinsel show, an a that;
The honest man, tho eer sae poor,
Is king o men for a that.
Ye see yon birkie, cad a lord,
Wha struts, an stares, an a that;
Tho hundreds worship at his word,
Hes but a coof for a that:
For a that, an a that,
His ribband, star, an a that:
The man o 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 mans abon his might,
Gude 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, oer a the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an a that.
For a that, an a that,
Its coming yet for a that,
That Man to Man, the world oer,
Shall brothers be for a that.
Poems by Robert Burns