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.
IV.
The frank address, the soft caress,
Are worse than poison’d darts of steel;
The frank address and politesse
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.
XXII.
YOUNG PEGGY.
Tune—“Last time I cam o’er the muir.”
[In these verses Burns, it is said, bade farewell to one on whom he had, according to his own account, wasted eights months of courtship. We hear no more of Montgomery’s Peggy.]
I.
Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass,
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o’er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh’ning flower.