Peggy monologue — The Gentle Shepherd: A Pastoral Comedy

Sic coarse-spun thoughts as thae want pith to move My settl'd mind; I'm o'er far gane in love. Patie to me is dearer than my breath; But want of him I dread nae other skaith. There's nane of a' the herds that tread the green Has sic a smile, or sic twa glancening een. And then he speaks with sic a taking art, His words they thirle like musick thro' my heart. How blythly can he sport, and gently rave, And jest a feckless fears that fright the lave! Ilk day that he's alane upon the hill, He reads fell books that teach him meikle skill. He is--but what need I say that or this? I'd spend a month to tell you what he is!