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 hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin’ grey, 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, though e’er sae poor;