Art of the Supernatural


Ode to a Haggis

Posted on December 3, 2010 at 3:24 AM

Disclaimer: I did not write this I just find it to be a very compelling poem about Haggis...


Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, 

Great chieftain o the puddin'-race! 

Aboon them a' ye tak your place, 

Painch, tripe, or thairm: 

Weel are ye wordy of 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 slight, 

Trenching your gushing entrails bright, 

Like onie 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; 

The 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 mak 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 a 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 make 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 grateful prayer, 

Gie her a Haggis!

Categories: Poems and Songs

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