It has become our
custom to celebrate of the Birthday of Rabbie Burns on
25th January by reproducing the words of one of his
well know verses. This year we have chosen an "Address to
a Haggis" which he wrote in 1786. We hope that members enjoy
their Haggis with a small dram on Burns night!
*****
At the
bottom of the page are links to various websites containing
information about Rabbie Burns plus a link to an alternative
"Address".
Address to a
Haggis
By Rabbie
Burns
*
Fair fa' your honest,
sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
Aboon them a' ye
tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel
are ye wordy o'a grace As lang's my arm.
****
The
groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a
distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o'need, While thro' your pores the dews
distil Like amber bead.
****
His
knife see rustic Labour dight, An' cut you up wi'
ready sleight, Trenching your gushing entrails
bright, Like ony ditch; And then, O what a
glorious sight, Warm-reekin', rich!
****
Then,
horn for horn, they stretch an' strive: Deil tak the
hindmost! on they drive, Till a' their weel-swall'd
kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld
Guidman, maist like to rive, Bethankit!
hums.
****
Is
there that owre his French ragout Or olio that wad
staw a sow, Or fricassee wad make her spew Wi'
perfect sconner, Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu'
view On sic a dinner?
****
Poor
devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as
wither'd rash, His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit; Thro' bloody flood or field to
dash, O how unfit!
****
But
mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth
resounds his tread. Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle; An' legs an' arms, an'
heads will sned, Like taps o'
thrissle.
****
Ye
Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care, And dish them out
their bill o' fare, Auld Scotland wants nae skinking
ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her
gratefu' prayer Gie her a
haggis!
