Category: Scottish

“A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
A weary lot is thine!
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
And press the rue for wine.
A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien,
A feather of the blue,
A doublet of the Lincoln green–
No more of me you knew,
My love!
No more of me you knew.

“The morn is merry June, I trow,
The rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow
Ere we two meet again.”
He turn’d his charger as he spake
Upon the river shore,
He gave the bridle-reins a shake,
Said, “Adieu for evermore,
My love!
And adieu for evermore.”

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 toils obscure, and a’that;
The rank is but the guinea-stamp,
The man’s the gowd for a’ that!

What tho’ on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey and a’that;
Gie fools their skills, 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,
Is king o’ men for a’ that!

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that:
His riband, star, and a’ that.
The man of independent mind
He looks and laughs at a’ that!

A prince can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a’ that,
But an honest man’s aboon his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their dignities, and a’ that,
The pith o’ sense, and pride o’ worth,
Are higher ranks than 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 comin’ yet for a’ that,
That man to ma, the world o’er,
Shall brithers be for a’ that!