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 toil’s obscure and a’ that

     The rank is but the guinea’s stamp

       The man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What tho’ on hamely 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.

     For a’ that, and a’ that,

       Their tinsel show and a’ that;

     The honest man tho’ e’er sae poor,

       Is king o’ men 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 warld o’er

       Shall brothers be for a’ that.

                                          Burns