O LEAVE novels, 1 ye Mauchline belles,
Yere 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 youre prey for Rob Mossgiel.
Beware a tongue thats 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.
