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Haggis Address

What is the Haggis Address?

The Haggis Address is a traditional and ceremonial performance of Robert Burns’ famous poem “Address to a Haggis.” The first cut of the haggis is made in the third verse of the poem. When the tribute to the dish ends, the haggis is served and enjoyed.

A Haggis Address is, of course, associated most frequently with Burns Night. But it can be a theatrical addition to any Scottish-themed evening, and a wonderful way to wow anyone unfamiliar with this particular tradition.

What is Haggis?

For the uninitiated, Haggis is a massive sausage.

It’s minced sheeps-meat with oats, onions and spices, wrapped in sausage casing.

It varies in size from a small football, to giant Chieftain Haggis which can be as long as your arm.

Roddy’s Haggis Address

Roddy performs a lively theatrical recitation of The Address to the Haggis as during dinner entertainment, usually before the haggis course is served. The poem lasts about 7 minutes and is a great spectacle for any genuine Scottish banquet.

Usually the haggis procession is led by the piper, followed by the chef with a whisky bearer as well.

Often a VIP guest can join this show and present drams to the piper and chef and join them in the Toast to the Haggis.

Watch the video below for a demonstration. And visit the Reel Time Youtube channel for more.

To book Roddy for a Haggis Address, fill out the contact form.

Here is the full text of Burn’s poem for your enjoyment. A side-by-side version of the text with the modern English translation is available to view here.

“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!”

Haggis Address
Address to the Haggis