To a 20th century haggis

The true Scots haggis is oft revered as chieftain o' the pudding race, we sought a taste o'Scotland's ain, to try to find amongst Celt and all, what haggis to commend to folk. Six clieftains fine were caught and killed, were baked and split for all to taste, with mashed neaps each haggis lay and wi'champit tatties aim to taste, the best, the worst, an' all between. Not one did ken the hills they'd trod from Dingwall, Edinburgh and Glasgow sent, from tin and vegetable too, 20 blinded souls did taste their fill, and score them each in turn. MacSweens, they cried is best to us, But Dingwall and M and S, are good to taste the Haggis fine, while tinned with marked disdain, lay cooling on their plates and mine. Now, who liked what? I hear you say, Scots and Sassenachs liked the same, lads and lassies too, though others will to veggie haggis stray. Even if you're from a foreign land the tinned is best left in the can, what well-meaning Scots may send, taste ye not, wee poor timorous beasties, oh. Auld Reekie breeds fine haggis still, For every palate to enjoy, with Tam O'Shanter galloping on, in memory of the fine Scots bard who 200 years have failed to still.