Address to a Haggis {imagine a good Scot's accent with this }

Category: Writers Block

Post 1 by Goblin (I have proven to myself and the world that I need mental help) on Monday, 07-Mar-2005 13:26:28

Fair fa'your honest, sonsie face great chieftain o the puddin'- race! Aboon them aw you tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace as lang's ma 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 poers 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 swall'd kytes beyve are bent like drums;The Auld Guidman maist like tae rive "bethankit" hums.
..............
Is there owre his French ragout ,or olio that wad staw a sow ,or fricasse wad mak her spew, wae 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 giud whip-lash his nieve a nit: thro bloody floodor feild 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;