Classic Poem

Your soldier is bloody, your statesman a knave;
Frae the true heart nae honor they ever shall have:
Their glitter an' fauseness may gar our hearts grue;
But honor to him wha is honest and true!

Will we bow to the coof wha has naething but gear?
the fool whom a college has fitted wi' lear?
Na, troth! we'll gi'e honor where honor is due —
To the Man wha has ever been honest and true!

We 'll ne'er speer if he came frae France, Holland, or Spain,
Ere we pledge manly friendship wi' him to maintain —
Be he Mussulman, Christian, Pagan, or Jew!
'Tis a' ane to us if he 's honest and true!

His skin may be black, or his skin may be white, —
We carena a fig, if his bosom be right:
Though his claes be in rags, an' the wind blawin' through,
We 'll honor the man wha is honest and true!

While the sun 's in the heavens, the stars in the sky, —
Till the earth be a sea, till the ocean run dry, —
We 'll honor but him to whom honor is due,
The MAN wha has ever been honest and true!