Mr Laing early wrote verses. In 1819, several songs from his pen appeared in the "Harp of Caledonia"--a respectable collection of minstrelsy, edited by John Struthers. He subsequently became a contributor to the "Harp of Renfrewshire" and the "Scottish Minstrel," edited by R. A. Smith. His lyrics likewise adorn the pages of Robertson's "Whistle Binkie" and the "Book of Scottish Song." He published, in 1846, a collected edition of his poems and songs, in a duodecimo volume, under the designation of "Wayside Flowers." A second edition appeared in 1850. He has been an occasional contributor to the local journals; furnished a number of anecdotes for the "Laird of Logan," a humorous publication of the west of Scotland; and has compiled some useful elementary works for the use of Sabbath-schools. His lyrics are uniformly pervaded by graceful simplicity, and the chief themes of his inspiration are love and patriotism. Than his song entitled "My Ain Wife," we do not know a lay more beautifully simple. His "Hopeless Exile" is the perfection of tenderness.
The dark gray o' gloamin', The lone leafy shaw, The coo o' the cushat, The scent o' the haw; The brae o' the burnie, A' bloomin' in flower, An' twa' faithfu' lovers, Make ae happy hour.
A kind winsome wifie, A clean canty hame, An' smilin' sweet babies To lisp the dear name; Wi' plenty o' labour, An' health to endure, Make time to row round aye The ae happy hour.
Ye lost to affection, Whom avarice can move To woo an' to marry For a' thing but love; Awa' wi' your sorrows, Awa' wi' your store, Ye ken na the pleasure O' ae happy hour.
"Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, Ye'se be ladye o' my ha', Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me. A canty but, a cosie ben, Weel plenish'd ye may trow me; A brisk, a blithe, a kind gudeman-- Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me!"
"Walth, there 's little doubt ye ha'e, An' bidin' bein an' easy; But brisk an' blithe ye canna be, An' you sae auld an' crazy. Wad marriage mak' you young again? Wad woman's love renew you? Awa', ye silly doitet man, I canna, winna lo'e you!"
"Witless hizzie, e'en 's you like, The ne'er a doit I 'm carin'; But men maun be the first to speak, An' wanters maun be speerin'. Yet, lassie, I ha'e lo'ed you lang, An' now I'm come to woo you; I 'm no sae auld as clashes gang, I think you 'd better lo'e me."