They asked the Bard of Ayr to dine; <br />The banquet hall was fit and fine, <br /> With gracing it a Lord; <br />The poet came; his face was grim <br />To find the place reserved for him <br /> Was at the butler's board. <br /> <br />So when the gentry called him in, <br />He entered with a knavish grin <br /> And sipped a glass of wine; <br />But when they asked would he recite <br />Something of late he'd chanced to write <br /> He ettled to decline. <br /> <br />Then with a sly, sardonic look <br />He opened up a little book <br /> Containing many a gem; <br />And as they sat in raiment fine, <br />So smug and soused with rosy wine, <br /> This verse he read to them. <br /> <br />'You see yon birkie caw'ed a Lord, <br /> Who struts and stares an' a' that, <br />Though hundreds worship at his word <br /> He's but a coof for a' that. <br />For a' that and a' that, <br /> A man's a man for a' that. <br /> <br />He pointed at that portly Grace <br />Who glared with apoplectic face, <br /> While others stared with gloom; <br />Then having paid them all he owed, <br />Burns, Bard of Homespun, smiled and strode <br /> Superbly from the room.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poet-and-peer/
