Chorus
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
And twice as muckle’s a’ that;
My dearest bluid, to do them guid,
They’re welcome till’t for a’ that.
[This is received with an uproar of acclamation. The doxy climbs up on to the table beside Burns, and shouts above the din, ‘A chorus, a chorus, and then for the road!’ and they sing in chorus.]
A fig for those by law protected!
Liberty’s a glorious feast!
Courts for cowards were erected,
Churches built to please the priest.