Our toil’s 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 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 though e’er sae puir,