I am a bard of no regard Wi' gentlefolks, and a' that; But Homer-like, the glowrin' byke, [staring crowd] Frae town to town I draw that.
For a' that, an' a' that, And twice as muckle's a' that; [much] I've lost but ane, I've twa behin', I've wife eneugh for a' that.
I never drank the Muses' stank, [pond] Castalia's burn, an' a' that; But there it streams, an' richly reams! [foams] My Helicon I ca' that.
Great love I bear to a' the fair, Their humble slave, an' a' that; But lordly will, I hold it still A mortal sin to thraw that. [thwart]
In raptures sweet this hour we meet Wi' mutual love, an' a' that; But for how lang the flee may stang, [fly, sting] Let inclination law that. [regulate]
Their tricks and craft hae put me daft, [crazy] They've ta'en me in, an' a' that; But clear your decks, an' _Here's the sex!_ I like the jads for a' that. [jades]
For a' that, and a' that, And twice as muckle's a' that, My dearest bluid, to do them guid, They're welcome till't, for a' that. [to it]
So sung the bard--and Nansie's wa's [walls] Shook with a thunder of applause, Re-echo'd from each mouth; They toom'd their pocks, an' pawn'd their duds. [emptied, pokes, rags] They scarcely left to co'er their fads, [cover, tails] To quench their lowin' drouth. [flaming] Then owre again the jovial thrang [over, crowd] The poet did request To lowse his pack, an' wale a sang, [untie, choose] A ballad o' the best; He rising, rejoicing, Between his twa Deborahs, Looks round him, an' found them Impatient for the chorus.
See the smoking bowl before us, Mark our jovial ragged ring; Round and round take up the chorus, And in raptures let us sing:
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!
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. [mistresses]
Does the train-attended carriage Thro' the country lighter rove? Does the sober bed of marriage Witness brighter scenes of love?
Life is all a variorum, We regard not how it goes; Let them cant about decorum Who have characters to lose.