The Working Man's Song

I am no gentleman, not I!
No bowing, scraping thing!
I bear my head more free and high
Than titled count or king.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
And only to one Lord on high
My head I bow.

I am no gentleman, not I!
No vain and varnish'd thing!
And from my heart, without a die,
My honest thoughts I fling.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
Our stout John Knox was none—and why
Should I be so?

I am no gentleman, not I!
No mincing, modish thing,
In gay saloon a butterfly,
Some wax-doll Miss to wing.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
No moth, to sport in fashion's eye,
A Bond Street beau.

I am no gentleman, not I!
No bully, braggart thing,
With jockeys on the course to vie,
With bull-dogs in the ring.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
The working man might sooner die
Than sink so low.

I am no gentleman, not I!
No star-bedizen'd thing!
My fathers filch'd no dignity,
By fawning to a king.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
And to the wage of honesty
My rank I owe.

I am no gentleman, not I!
No bowing, scraping thing!
I bear my head more free and high
Than titled count or king.
I am no gentleman, not I!
No, no, no!
And thank the blessed God on high,
Who made me so!