To the moral and religious reformation of the industrial classes, as well as the improvement of their physical condition, Mr Marshall has long been earnestly devoted. In 1853 he published a small volume of prose and poetry, addressed to industrial females, with the title, "Lays and Lectures to Scotia's Daughters of Industry." This work rapidly passed through various editions. In 1856 he appeared as the author of a similar publication, entitled "Homely Words and Songs for Working Men and Women," to which his former work has been added as a second part. For terse and homely counsels, and vigorous and manly sentiments, adapted to the peculiar feelings and condition of the Scottish peasantry, these _brochures_ are without a parallel. Mr Marshall proposes to add to the series two other parts, addressed to "Husbands and Fathers," and to "Young Men."
I like to spring in the morning bricht, Before the mill bell rings; When waukening blithe in gowden licht, My joyfu' spirit sings.
I like to hear, when the pearly tear Gems morning's floweret cup, The trumpet summons of chanticleer Pipe "drowsy mortals up."
I tread as lightly as silent puss, While a' the household sleep; And gird me to clean and redd the house Before the bairnies cheep.
I like to dress and mak me clean As ony winsome bride; And think na shame, though my face be seen, At morn or eventide.
I like to handle, before I rin, The word o' truth and love; And seek, or the daily wark begin, Gude counsel from above.
Then skipping wi' lichtsome heart, I hie To earn my bit o' bread; The wark spins on, and the time rins by, Wi' pleasant, blessed speed.
AIR--_"Fye, gae rub her owre wi' strae."_
As sunshine to the flowers in May, As wild flowers to the hinny bee, As fragrant scent o' new mown hay, So my true love is sweet to me.
As costly jewels to the bride, As beauty to the bridegroom's e'e-- To sailors, as fair wind and tide, So my true love is dear to me.
As rain-draps to the thirsty earth, As waters to the willow-tree, As mother's joy at baby's birth, So my true love is dear to me.
Though owning neither wealth nor lan', He 's ane o' Heaven's pedigree; His love to God, his love to man, His goodness makes him dear to me.
The lass that weds a warly fool May laugh, and sing, and dance a wee; But earthly love soon waxes cool, And foolish fancies turn ajee.