Novels（1 / 1）

song—o leave novels 注释标题 burns never published this poem.

o leave novels, ye mauchline belles,

ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;

such witching books are baited hooks

for rakish rooks, like rob mossgiel;

your fine tom jones and grandisons,

they make your youthful fancies reel;

they heat your brains, and fire your veins,

and then you're prey for rob mossgiel.

beware a tongue that's smoothly hung,

a heart that warmly seems to feel;

that feeling heart but acts a part—

'tis rakish art in rob mossgiel.

the frank address, the soft caress,

are worse than poisoned darts of steel;

the frank address, and politesse,

are all finesse in rob mossgiel.