Celebrate Robert Burns Day with two of his poems

• A Man’s a Man for A’ That
• Is there for honesty poverty 
• That hings his head, an’ a’ that; 
• The coward slave — we pass him by, 
• We dare be poor for a’ that! 
• For a’ that, an’ a’ that, 
• Our toils obscure an’ 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 hoddin grey, an’ a’ that? 
• Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, 
• A man’s a man for a’ that. 
• For a’ that, an’ a’ that, 
• Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that, 
• The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor, 
• Is king o’ men for a’ that. 

• Ye see yon birkie ca’d a lord, 
• Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that; 
• Tho’ hundreds worship at his word, 
• He’s but a coof for a’ that. 
• For a’ that, an’ a’ that, 
• His ribband, star, an’ a’ that, 
• The man o’ independent mind 
• He looks an’ laughs at a’ that. 

• A price can mak a belted knight, 
• A marquise, duke, an’ a’ that; 
• But an honest man’s aboon his might, 
• Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that! 
• For a’ that, an’ a’ that, 
• Their dignities an’ a’ that, 
• The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth, 
• Are higher rank 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, 
• Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that. 
• For a’ that, an’ a’ that, 
• That man to man, the world o’er, 
• Shall brithers be for a’ tha

• My Heart’s in the Highlands
• Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
• The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
• Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
• The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

• My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
• My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
• A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
• My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go.

• Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
• Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
• Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
• Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

• My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
• My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
• A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
• My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go. 

Robert Burns (1759-1796) was the premiere Scottish poet and balladeer, regarded in Scotland with the same reverence as Shakespeare in England—and, like Shakespeare’s creative use of Elizabethan English, Burns’s style is immediately recognizable through his use of colloquial Scottish dialect interwoven into the English of his day. He is celebrated throughout the world on his birthday, Jan. 25, known as Burns Day, with haggis, tripe, and various and sundry malted barley distillations.