“Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie, face
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!”
“Address To A Haggis”, Robert Burns, 1786.
(Keeper o’er the Fourth Kingdom)
Robert, Robert, Fourth Kingdom
Gate Keeper.
No Telestial glory
Befits the poet deeper!
Wherefore is thy legacy
Robert Burns, regretfully
Wherefore is thy Haggis?
Thy Puddin’ flees before thee.
Thy Hippopotami give birth
Purple, purple, such deliver
The royal eggplant hatchling
That multiplies the giver!
Celestial porridge is thy claim
As such befits thy story
But no resplendent poet name
Perpetuates thy glory
Terrestial kingdoms blissfully
Reject that higher leaven
But thou hast won, delectably
That Kingdom Fourth of Heaven!
When ah sairly look doon frae up oan high
Frae ma cloud warmed dookit in the azure sky
At aw the drunken bloated bletherums
Wha meet fur ma birthday's kilted getherums
Tae feast sae dearly oan neeps an' tatties
Wi' yon sonsie puddin' we aye cry haggis
Tae toast wi' wee haufs o'usquebaugh ma name
Ah huvtae admit tae a real sense o' shame
Ah widnae want tae be seen deid wi' ony o'thum.
No e'en fur the whale o' a guid king's ransom.
Sic beanos fur ithers might be fine 'n' dandy
Just gie me time fur a wee bit o' hoochmagandy.
'Twas wi' the lassies ah dearly lo'ed tae gambol
Fur they queens aw did mak ma knees tae tramble.
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