Robert Burns - Rabbie Burns Nicht - 25th January

Robert Burns was a very famous Scottish writer who lived in the Scottish Lowlands. He was born in Alloway, January 25, 1759, and died in Dumfries on July 21, 1796. He was very poor and what education he did have, he received from his father. Due to the severe manual labour he did as a farmer, he was stooped over and suffered from a very delicate medical condition.

In 1781, he set out to become a flax-dresser, but as a result of a fire, the building burned down and eventually the business folded. He started composing poetry in 1783 and is famous because he used the dialect of Ayrshire in his poems. Although he thought of moving to Jamaica, he continued writing poetry and published Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect in 1786. This brought him immediate success and brought him into the company of famous Scots, such as Dugald Stewart.

He married his long time sweetheart, Jean Armour, and the two settled near Dumfries. Several other publications followed, such as Tam o?Shanter and Melodies of Scotland. He worked briefly as an exciseman and turned down an appointment to the Star in London.

Some of the well known poems of Robert Burns include "Auld Lang Syne" which is sung at New Year?s Eve, "A Red, Red Rose", "To a Louse" and "To Mouse" Robert Burns Day is celebrated on his birthday January 25 and the celebrations usually include a supper of Haggis, Neeps & Tatties. Along with celebrating by sharing a meal, the celebration consists of people reciting some of the poetry of Robert Burns. Amongst the evening's entertainment the 'Address Tae The Haggis' along with 'The Selkirk Grace' is delivered.

The Burns Trail at Alloway is a very popular tourist destination. The Burns National Historic Park in Alloway begins with his birthplace, Burns Cottage. From here you can walk the trail to visit many of the places mentioned in the poems, such as the "auld haunted kirk" and the Brig o?Doon where Meg from Tom o'Shanter has a narrow escape from the witches.

Traditional Haggis Recipe

1 sheep's pluck (stomach bag)
2 lb. dry oatmeal
1 lb. suet
1 lb. lamb's liver
2 1/2 cups stock
1 large chopped onion
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper, ground pepper and salt

Boil liver and parboil the onion, then mince them together. Lightly brown the oatmeal. Mix all ingredients together. Fill the sheep's pluck with the mixture pressing it down to remove all the air, and sew up securely. Prick the haggis in several places so that it does not burst. Place haggis in boiling water and boil slowly for 4-5 hours. Serves approximately 12.

The Selkirk Grace

Some hae meat and canna eat
And some wad eat that want it
But we hae meat and we can eat
And sae the Lord be thankit.

Address 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 wordy 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 sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony 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 lyke drums;
Then 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 sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower 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 mak 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!