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Ae day short syne, whan gaun afiel,
A douce aul' farrant eldrin chiel
Cam' yont the burn tae hae a crack,
For John an' me hae lang been pack.
Quo he, Thir's unco times we leeve in,
There's muckle dune, ance past believin'.
Hae ye no heard in Glasco College
They've plantit a new tree o' knowledge?
The frute's fu' bonny tae the e'e,
An' woman's no forbid tae pree:
Sae she may cum without presumption,
An' pu' an' eat an' gather gumption.
An' sic lang-wint, lang-nebbit cracks,
'Bout social rights, an' wrangs, an' facts,
Frae chiels wi' tongues sae glib an' snell,
They tingilit thro' ye like a bell.
There's mony a phase o' speech an' thocht,
Leuks gran', but whan it's tae be wrocht,
An' practice, 'stead o' speech begins,
There's stumilin'-blocks tae break oor shins,
Ower whilk we'll stacher, stoit, an' tumile,
Syne juist sit doon an' glunch an' grumil.
Speech is a tree that bears nae frute,
Till delvit and dungit aboot the rute.
The yird weel loosit an' labourit, syne
Leuk for a crap, baith big and fine.
Whan words an' wark mak' firm alliance,
Then social duty's social science.

An' noo, that we hae dune wi' speakin',
Fie let us tae the wark be streekin'.
Aff wi' yer coat, up wi' yer sleeves,
Set doon yer feet, an' ply yer neives.
On, on, nae stanin' still, nor jaukin',
Oor wark's ahin, hae dune wi' taukin';
For that's ane o' the richts o' woman,
I houp her gude time's nearer comin'—
Hech, there's a warl o' wark afore hir,
An' Heaven an' yirth are leukin' o'er hir.
Noo, John, quo I, haud aff oor taes,
A woman best kens woman's ways:
There's ae thing she can hardly name,
A thing o' filth, an' sin, an' shame;
Tae chack that ugsume kin' o' sinnin',
She maun begin at the beginnin'.
Nae lassie ere was born on yirth,
But Nature gied hir, at hir birth,
A shrinkin', shame-faced, modest pride,
Hir baith as bairn an' maid tae guide.
O mithers, guard this precious sense—
This bashfu' modesty and mense,
Sae sweet, but O ower scarce tae see.
Yer warnin' words, an' watchfu' e'e,
Sood never lea' them lang their lanes,
Wi' ill brocht up, ill deedie weans.
An' cleed their limbs wi' decent claes,
A gey bit nearer tae the taes,
An' aye the guileless bonny burds,
Keep frae a' shamefu' sichts an' words.
Ay, mithers, ye hae muckle mair
Tae gie yer bairns than schulin' lear;
At schule ye like tae see them braw,
Wi' peenie white as drifted snaw,
An' hoopit coatie, short an' wide,
An' curls that hing on ilka side
O' rosy cheeks an' lauchin' e'en,
An' a' aboot them snod an' clean.
This ye may dae, but let the min'
An' wee bit hertie, saft an' kin',
The mither's anxious luve an' care,
An' eident teachin' foremaist share,
An' let yer cares aye deeper grup,
Whan they tae maidhood are grown up,
An' tho' the wark war ne'er sae thrang,
Ken wha they're wi', an' whaur they gang;
Be tae yer duty leal an' true,
An' sood ye fail, na blame tae you.

There's been an unco tauk an' fyke
'Boot weemen's wark, an' things sic like.
The shooster lasses, save the mark,
They say sood hae the shopmen's wark,
An' sort the teeps, an' wield the pen,
An' blackneb on the wurkin' men.
An' sood they get the pay an' place
Men used tae hae, they'll hae the grace,
By their glib mouth-piece Bessy Park,
Tae tell the chiels whaur they'll get wark;
They canna dig, tae beg think shame,
They'll list, or seek a foreign hame.
Noo, lasses, I wad hae ye ken,
Tae herry oot the nice young men
Is no' the gate to win their favour.
By thrifty, modest, quiet behaviour,
A wheen o' ye micht aiblains share
A' that they wurk for evermair.
An' are we cum tae sic a pass,
That wark, an' meat, for mony a lass,
Can no' be had in oor bit islan',
But by her health or morals spoilin'?
Then let ilk toon oot thro' the nation
Subscribe for female emigration,
Tae tak' them far frae wants an' harms,
Tae lan's whaur woman's presence charms
An' blesses men, whase lanely lives
An' lanely hames hae need o' wives.

Ae word tae speechifyin' weemen,
That's no aye sleepin' whan they're dreamin',
Aye takin' up puir woman's quarrels,
Let your first care be woman's morals;
For social ills, an' deeds impure,
Prevention easier is than cure.
Help mithers wi' their maiden charge,
Help lassies coosten oot at large
Upon a warl' baith caul an' stern,
Wi' muckle baith tae thole and learn.
An' since ye've time an' win' tae spare,
Them baith on sister woman ware,
Tae touch her heart, an' teach her saul,
This mission's yours—obey the call.