Ann Taylor

(30 January 1782 - 20 December 1866 / Colchester, England)

Ann Taylor Poems

41. Little Girls Must Not Fret 4/1/2010
42. For A Naughty Little Girl 1/3/2003
43. A True Story 1/3/2003
44. Meddlesome Matty 1/3/2003
45. The Baby's Dance 1/3/2003
46. My Mother 4/1/2010
Best Poem of Ann Taylor

My Mother

Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.


When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother?

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall ...

Read the full of My Mother

A True Story

Little Ann and her mother were walking one day
Through London's wide city so fair,
And business obliged them to go by the way
That led them through Cavendish Square.
And as they pass'd by the great house of a Lord,
A beautiful chariot there came,
To take some most elegant ladies abroad,
Who straightway got into the same.

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