To a 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 worthy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.


I'll not reproduce the whole thing, but you get the drift.


We had a semi-traditional Burns supper tonight to celebrate the Bard's birthday.  


Haggis, mustard mash and tenderstem broccoli.  


Mmmmm.

Oh, and pictured is a multi-purpose item, simultaneously a Haggis statuette, a money box and a musical instrument (with which my wife once impressed a Wedding reception crowd by picking it up and with no rehearsal playing Ode to Joy).