Who beats his wife and a' that,
Is nothing but a brutal boor,
Nor half a man for a' that.
It comes to this, dear Robert Burns,
The truth is old, and a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
And though you'd put the self-same mark
On copper, brass, and a' that,
The lie is gross, the cheat is plain,