‘Address to a Haggis’, Vol.1, pp.237-239.


FAIR fa’ your honest, sonsie face,                       jolly 
Great chieftain o’ the puddin-race! 
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,                        Above 
Painch, tripe, or thairm:              Paunch; small guts 
Weel are ye wordy of a grace 
As lang’s my arm. 



The groaning trencher there ye fill, 
Your hurdies like a distant hill,                           buttocks 
Your pin wad help to mend a mill                       skewer 
In time o’ need, 
While thro’ your pores the dews distil 
Like amber bead. 



His knife see rustic Labour dight,                      wipe 
An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight,                            skill 
Trenching your gushing entrails bright, 
Like onie ditch; 
And then, O what glorious sight, 
Warm-reekin, rich! 



Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:    spoon 
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, 
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve                bellies; by-and bye 
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,              burst 
‘Bethankit!’ hums. 



Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,                               sicken 
Or fricassee wad mak her spew 
Wi’ perfect sconner,                     disgust 
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view 
On sic a dinner? 



Poor devil! see him owre his trash, 
As feckless as a wither’d rash,                             weak; rush 
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash, 
His nieve a nit;                              fist; nut 
Thro’ bluidy 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,                           ample 
He’ll make it whissle; 
An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned                crop 
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,           watery 
That jumps in luggies;                  splashes; [wee bowl]
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer, 
Gie her a Haggis!

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