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Poem by Robert Burns


O Leave Novels


O LEAVE novels, 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 Bob Mossgiel.

The frank address, the soft caress,
  Are worse than poisond darts of steel;
The frank address, and politesse,
  Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Mark Yonder Pomp
  2. By Allan Stream
  3. Theres News, Lasses
  4. Scroggam
  5. The First Psalm


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