The Mauchline Belles
The Poem by Robert Burns - warning of "Rob Mossgiel".
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 feelin heart but acks 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.
And the Miss Smith bit?
In Mauchline there dwells six proper young Belles,
The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a',
Their carriage and dress a stranger would guess,
In Lon'on or Paris they'd gotten it a':
Miss Miller is fine, Miss Murkland 's divine,
Miss Smith she has wit and Miss Betty is braw;
There 's beauty and fortune to get wi' Miss Morton,
But ARMOUR 's the jewel for me o' them a'.
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