How to address the haggis in style this Burns night

Many Scots families will be sitting down to their haggis, tatties and neeps this Saturday to mark Burns Night, but even if you’re not going to an official event, there’s no excuse not to do it in style.

Why not have a stab at addressing the haggis? In our video above, Borders actor Matthew Burgess shows how you can have a bit of fun with it, while celebrating the words of the Scottish Bard.

Matthew Burgess addresses the haggis.

Matthew Burgess addresses the haggis.

This address took place on Selkirk Hill, following a record breaking haggis hunt, in which 567 people and more than 50 dogs took to the hill in search of the Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin’ Race.

If you get stuck at home, here’s the words to Burns’ famous poem:

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 worthy o’ 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 scunner,

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 gratefu prayer,

Gie her a Haggis