Ann Taylor (30 January 1782 - 20 December 1866 / Colchester, England)
Poems of Ann Taylor
|1.||A True Story||1/3/2003|
|2.||About the Little Girl that Beat Her Sister||1/3/2003|
|4.||Come And Play In The Garden||4/1/2010|
|8.||For a Naughty Little Girl||1/3/2003|
|9.||Frances Keeps Her Promise||4/1/2010|
|10.||George And The Chimney-Sweep||4/1/2010|
|12.||James And The Shoulder Of Mutton||4/1/2010|
|13.||Jane and Eliza||1/3/2003|
|14.||Learning to Go Alone||1/3/2003|
|15.||Little Girls Must Not Fret||4/1/2010|
Poor Martha is old, and her hair is turn'd grey,
And her hearing has left her for many a year;
Ten to one if she knows what it is that you say,
Though she puts her poor wither'd hand close to her ear.
I've seen naughty children run after her fast,
And cry, "Martha, run, there's a bullock so bold;"
And when she was frighten'd, laugh at her at last,
Because she believed the sad stories they told.