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Humphrey, the Sinister Haggis

An obscure bit of probable Burns poetry, "discovered" for Mel's Burns Night party, 2009.

I started with The Bonie Moor-Hen and ended up with this. It assumes you know the basics of haggis-hunting (the beastie has a round, smooth body, a long white furry tail from which sporrans are made, and the legs on one side are longer than those on the other so it can run round mountains: to hunt, chase it the wrong way round the mountain, and it rolls down into the nets.)

The heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn,
Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn,
O'er moors and o'er mosses and mony a hill,
At length they discover'd a Haggis to kill


I rede you, beware of the haggis, my son,
I rede you, beware of the haggis, my son;
Take what you may get,
as it fa's in the net,
But ne'er chase the beast the way Phoebus do run

Sweet-brushing the dew from the brown heather bells
His white tail betray'd him on yon mossy fells;
The nooses and trappings, the nets that they bair
They placed them with cunning downhill of his lair.
I rede you,&c.

As still as the fairest he sat in their sight
The horn it was sounded, to put him to flight
But the crafty wee beastie did not as they kent
He had supped wi' the de'il, and widdershins went!
I rede you,&c.

They chased it oe'er gowans, they chased it round hill,
The best of our lads wi' the best o' their skill;
And into the gloaming, and almost to night
Around glaizie craigies continued its flight
I rede you,&c.

Auld Phoebus himself, came and stared in surprise
His rays sae did glitter, it dazzled their eyes
They ne'er saw the cliff till t'was under their feet
An owre they warsl'd: by Haggis well beat!
I rede you,&c.

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