|
|
| |
FAIR fa' your honest sonsie1.
face, |
Great chieftain o' the puddin' race! |
Aboon them a' ye tak your place, | | Painch, tripe or thairm:2.
|
Weel are ye worthy of a grace, | | As langs my arm. |
|
The groaning trencher there ye fill, |
Your hurdies like a distant hill, |
Your pin*. would help to mend a mill, | | In time o' need, |
While through your pores the dews distil | | Like amber bead. |
|
His knife see rustic labour dight,3.
|
And cut you up wi' ready slight. |
Trenching your gushing entrails bright | | Like ony ditch ; |
And then, oh what a glorious sight, | | Warm-reekin',4.
rich! |
|
Then, horn for horn they stretch and strive. |
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, |
Till a' their weel-swalled kytes belyve.
| | Are bent like drums ; |
Then auld guidmen, maist like to rive,5.
| | Bethankit hums. |
|
Is there that owere his French ragoût, |
Or olio that wad staw a sow,6.
|
Or fricasse wad mak her spew7.
| | Wi' perfect scunner,8.
|
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view |
On sic a dinner? |
|
Poor devil! see him owere his trash, |
As feckless9.
as a wither'd rash. |
His spindle-shank a guid whip-lash | | His nieve10.
a nit: |
Through bloody flood or field to dash, | | Oh, 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; |
And legs, and arms, and heads will sned,11.
| | Like taps o' thrissle. |
|
Ye powers wha mak mankind your care, |
And dish them out their bill o' fare. |
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware,12. | | That jaups13. in luggies;14. |
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer. | | Gie her a haggis!
|
|
1 Jolly.^ |
2 Small intestines.^ |
3 Wipe.^ |
4 Smoking.^ |
5 Burst.^ |
6 Pig. ^ |
7 Vomit.^ |
8 Loathing.^ |
9 Pithless.^ |
10 Fist.^ |
11 Cut off.^ |
12 Thin stuff.^ |
13 Splashes.^ |
14 Wooden dishes.^ |
* A wooden skewer with which it is lifted out and in to the vessel in which it is cooked.^ |
Bellies.^
|
|