BURNS CLUBS: A man is a man for a' that

Robert Burns Club in Ayr

Robert Burns is a National Hero in Scotland. His life is celebrated and honored as much as George Washington's in the United States. Some places in the US, will hail the fact the Washington slept there. The same thing happens in Scotland where towns claim to be a place where Burns lived. Click on the pictures in this entry to go to the various clubs. On their sites you can learn more about Burns and get a true impression of how Scots feel about Burns. It is something very unique.

If you would like to join a Burns club, here's a start. The World Federation.

Click on the image of Burns and join.

Click the picture to the left and watch a video to get you in the mood for Burns Night.

TO A HAGGIS by Robert Burns

1.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 wordy of a grace

As lang's my arm.

2.The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hudies 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.

3.His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An' cut ye up wi' ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reeking, rich!

4.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;

Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

'Bethankit!' hums.

5.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?

6.Poor devil! see him owre his trash,

As fecl;ess as a wither'd rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,

His nieve a nit;

Tho' bluidy flood or field to dash,

O how unfit.

7.But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll make it whistle;

An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned

Like taps o' thrissle.

8.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 gratfu' prayer,

Gie her a Haggis!