“Robert burns poem for elizabethbpaton”

You ask for a poem of Robert Burns’ own heart,  
Addressed to Elizabeth Paton—his youth’s counterpart,  
In Kirkoswald’s shadows, where secrets lay deep,  
And Fate planted seeds Love and Memory keep.

He first saw her eyes, honest, gentle, and brown,  
By the hearth at Lochlea, her hair softly down.  
A lassie, not noble, yet dear as pure gold—  
No silks ever graced her, but warmth made her bold.

The sowing and reaping, the moss-braes in bloom,  
The hush of the twilight, two hearts braving doom;  
Fair Lizzie, sweet Lizzie, his promise, his sin—  
The world was against them, yet love would begin.

For Paton, her sorrow was met with his rhyme,  
A cradle, a secret, a long shadowed time.  
His lettered confessions, his worries he’d pen—  
“O Lizzy, dear Lizzy, forgive me again.”

Though duty and kin-words drew parting’s hard line,  
And promises faded with barley and wine,  
Still, in poems, he kept her—his first autumn dream—  
A brush of affection, the gentlest esteem.

And so Robert Burns and his dear Elizabeth,  
By moonlight in Ayrshire, first found loving breath  
Perhaps not forever, but memory clings—  
For poets and lasses, and all tender things.

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