Their tricks an’ craft hae put me daft,
     They’ve taen me in, an’ a’ that;
     But clear your decks, and here’s—­“The Sex!”
     I like the jads for a’ that.

     Chorus

     For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
     An’ twice as muckle’s a’ that;
     My dearest bluid, to do them guid,
     They’re welcome till’t for a’ that.

     Recitativo

     So sang the bard—­and Nansie’s wa’s
     Shook with a thunder of applause,
     Re-echo’d from each mouth! 
     They toom’d their pocks, they pawn’d their duds,
     They scarcely left to co’er their fuds,
     To quench their lowin drouth: 
     Then owre again, the jovial thrang
     The poet did request
     To lowse his pack an’ wale a sang,
     A ballad o’ the best;
     He rising, rejoicing,
     Between his twa Deborahs,
     Looks round him, an’ found them
     Impatient for the chorus.

     Air

     Tune—­“Jolly Mortals, fill your Glasses.”

     See the smoking bowl before us,
     Mark our jovial ragged ring! 
     Round and round take up the chorus,
     And in raptures let us sing—­

     Chorus

     A fig for those by law protected! 
     Liberty’s a glorious feast! 
     Courts for cowards were erected,
     Churches built to please the priest.

     What is title, what is treasure,
     What is reputation’s care? 
     If we lead a life of pleasure,
     ’Tis no matter how or where! 
     A fig for, &c.

     With the ready trick and fable,
     Round we wander all the day;
     And at night in barn or stable,
     Hug our doxies on the hay. 
     A fig for, &c.

     Does the train-attended carriage
     Thro’ the country lighter rove? 
     Does the sober bed of marriage
     Witness brighter scenes of love? 
     A fig for, &c.

     Life is al a variorum,
     We regard not how it goes;
     Let them cant about decorum,
     Who have character to lose. 
     A fig for, &c.

     Here’s to budgets, bags and wallets! 
     Here’s to all the wandering train. 
     Here’s our ragged brats and callets,
     One and all cry out, Amen!

     Chorus

     A fig for those by law protected! 
     Liberty’s a glorious feast! 
     Courts for cowards were erected,
     Churches built to please the priest.

Song—­For A’ That^1

     Tune—­“For a’ that.”

     Tho’ women’s minds, like winter winds,
     May shift, and turn, an’ a’ that,
     The noblest breast adores them maist—­
     A consequence I draw that.

     Chorus

     For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
     And twice as meikle’s a’ that;
     The bonie lass that I loe best
     She’ll be my ain for a’ that.