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Best Famous Jane Taylor Poems

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by Jane Taylor |

The Violet

 Down in a green and shady bed, 
A modest violet grew; 
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view. 
And yet it was a lovely flower, 
Its colour bright and fair; 
It might have graced a rosy bower, 
Instead of hiding there. 

Yet thus it was content to bloom, 
In modest tints arrayed; 
And there diffused a sweet perfume, 
Within the silent shade. 

Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see; 
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.


by Jane Taylor |

The Village Green

 On the cheerful village green, 
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball. 

Now they frolic hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain; 
Then they form a warlike band,
Marching o'er the level plain. 

Now ascends the worsted ball, 
High it rises in the air, 
Or against the cottage wall, 
Up and down it bounces there. 

Then the hoop, with even pace, 
Runs before the merry throngs; 
Joy is seen in every face, 
Joy is heard in cheerful songs. 

Rich array, and mansions proud, 
Gilded toys, and costly fare, 
Would not make the little crowd
Half so happy as they are. 

Then, contented with my state, 
Where true pleasure may be seen, 
Let me envy not the great, 
On a cheerful village green.


by Jane Taylor |

The Spider

 "Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann; 
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan; 
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be, 
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. " 

"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way; 
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain, 
It has much more occasion than you to complain. 

"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear; 
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say. 

"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust; 
But certainly we have no cause for alarm; 
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm. 

"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree? 
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you: 
Come learn from this spider what patience can do! 

"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day, 
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true, 
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "


by Jane Taylor |

The Holidays

 "Ah! don't you remember, 'tis almost December,
And soon will the holidays come;
Oh, 'twill be so funny, I've plenty of money,
I'll buy me a sword and a drum. " 

Thus said little Harry, unwilling to tarry,
Impatient from school to depart; 
But we shall discover, this holiday lover
Knew little what was in his heart. 

For when on returning, he gave up his learning, 
Away from his sums and his books,
Though playthings surrounded, and sweetmeats abounded,
Chagrin still appear'd in his looks. 

Though first they delighted, his toys were now slighted, 
And thrown away out of his sight; 
He spent every morning in stretching and yawning,
Yet went to bed weary at night. 

He had not that treasure which really makes pleasure,
(A secret discover'd by few). 
You'll take it for granted, more playthings he wanted; 
Oh naught was something to do. 

We must have employment to give us enjoyment
And pass the time cheerfully away; 
And study and reading give pleasure, exceeding
The pleasures of toys and of play. 

To school now returning­to study and learning
With eagerness Harry applied; 
He felt no aversion to books or exertion, 
Nor yet for the holidays sigh'd.


by Jane Taylor |

The Good-Natured Girls

 Two good little children, named Mary and Ann, 
Both happily live, as good girls always can; 
And though they are not either sullen or mute, 
They seldom or never are heard to dispute. 

If one wants a thing that the other would like­
Well,­what do they do? Must they quarrel and strike? 
No, each is so willing to give up her own, 
That such disagreements are there never known. 

If one of them happens to have something nice, 
Directly she offers her sister a slice; 
And never, like some greedy children, would try
To eat in a corner with nobody by! 

When papa or mamma has a job to be done; 
These good little children immediately run; 
Nor dispute whether this or the other should go,
They would be ashamed to behave themselves so! 

Whatever occurs, in their work or their play, 
They are willing to yield, and give up their own way: 
Then now let us try their example to mind, 
And always, like them, be obliging and kind.


by Jane Taylor |

The Disappointment

 In tears to her mother poor Harriet came, 
Let us listen to hear what she says:
"O see, dear mamma, it is pouring with rain, 
We cannot go out in the chaise. 

"All the week I have long'd for this holiday so, 
And fancied the minutes were hours; 
And now that I'm dress'd and all ready to go, 
Do look at those terrible showers! " 

"I'm sorry, my dear, " her kind mother replied, 
The rain disappoints us to-day; 
But sorrow still more that you fret for a ride, 
In such an extravagant way. 

"These slight disappointments are sent to prepare
For what may hereafter befall; 
For seasons of real disappointment and care, 
Which commonly happen to all. 

"For just like to-day with its holiday lost,
Is life and its comforts at best: 
Our pleasures are blighted, our purposes cross'd, 
To teach us it is not our rest. 

"And when those distresses and crosses appear, 
With which you may shortly be tried, 
You'll wonder that ever you wasted a tear
On merely the loss of a ride. 

"But though the world's pleasures are fleeting and vain, 
Religion is lasting and true; 
Real pleasure and peace in her paths you may gain, 
Nor will disappointment ensue. "


by Jane Taylor |

The Apple-Tree

 Old John had an apple-tree, healthy and green,
Which bore the best codlins that ever were seen,
So juicy, so mellow, and red;
And when they were ripe, he disposed of his store,
To children or any who pass'd by his door, 
To buy him a morsel of bread. 

Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see, 
With longing eye viewing this fine apple-tree,
And wishing a codlin might fall: 
One day as he stood in the heat of the sun,
He began thinking whether he might not take one, 
And then he look'd over the wall. 

And as he again cast his eye on the tree,
He said to himself, "Oh, how nice they would be,
So cool and refreshing to-day! 
The tree is so full, and one only I'll take,
And John cannot see if I give it a shake,
And nobody is in the way. 

But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough,
Remember, though John cannot see you just now,
And no one to chide you is nigh, 
There is One, who by night, just as well as by day, 
Can see all you do, and can hear all you say,
From his glorious throne in the sky. 

O then little boy, come away from the tree,
Lest tempted to this wicked act you should be:
'Twere better to starve than to steal; 
For the great GOD, who even through darkness can look,
Writes down every crime we commit, in His book; 
Nor forgets what we try to conceal.


by Jane Taylor |

Sleepy Harry

 "I do not like to go to bed," 
Sleepy little Harry said; 
"Go, naughty Betty, go away, 
I will not come at all, I say! "

Oh, silly child! what is he saying? 
As if he could be always playing! 
Then, Betty, you must come and carry
This very foolish little Harry. 

The little birds are better taught,
They go to roosting when they ought: 
And all the ducks, and fowls, you know, 
They went to bed an hour ago. 

The little beggar in the street,
Who wanders with his naked feet,
And has not where to lay his head,
Oh, he'd be glad to go to bed.


by Jane Taylor |

Mischief

 Let those who're fond of idle tricks,
Of throwing stones, and hurling bricks,
And all that sort of fun,
Now hear a tale of idle Jim, 
That warning they may take by him, 
Nor do as he has done. 

In harmless sport or healthful play
He did not pass his time away,
Nor took his pleasure in it;
For mischief was his only joy:
No book, or work, or even toy,
Could please him for a minute. 

A neighbour's house he'd slyly pass,
And throw a stone to break the glass,
And then enjoy the joke!
Or, if a window open stood,
He'd throw in stones, or bits of wood, 
To frighten all the folk. 

If travellers passing chanced to stay,
Of idle Jim to ask the way, 
He never told them right; 
And then, quite harden'd in his sin,
Rejoiced to see them taken in, 
And laugh'd with all his might. 

He'd tie a string across the street, 
Just to entangle people's feet,
And make them tumble down: 
Indeed, he was disliked so much, 
That no good boy would play with such
A nuisance to the town. 

At last the neighbours, in despair,
This mischief would no longer bear: 
And so ­to end the tale,
This lad, to cure him of his ways,
Was sent to spend some dismal days
Within the county jail.


by Jane Taylor |

The Orphan

 My father and mother are dead, 
Nor friend, nor relation I know; 
And now the cold earth is their bed, 
And daisies will over them grow. 

I cast my eyes into the tomb, 
The sight made me bitterly cry; 
I said, "And is this the dark room, 
Where my father and mother must lie?" 

I cast my eyes round me again, 
In hopes some protector to see; 
Alas! but the search was in vain, 
For none had compassion on me. 

I cast my eyes up to the sky, 
I groan'd, though I said not a word; 
Yet GOD was not deaf to my cry,
The Friend of the fatherless heard. 

For since I have trusted his care, 
And learn'd on his word to depend, 
He has kept me from every snare, 
And been my best Father and Friend.