Jane Taylor

(23 September 1783 – 13 April 1824 / Colchester, England)

Jane Taylor Poems

1. The Poppy 2/5/2016
2. My Mother 4/8/2015
3. The Squire’s Pew 4/8/2010
4. Poetry And Reality 4/8/2010
5. Experience 4/8/2010
6. The World In The House 4/8/2010
7. A Fable 4/8/2010
8. Soliloquy 4/8/2010
9. Prejudice 4/8/2010
10. Good Night 4/8/2010
11. Pretty Cow 4/8/2010
12. Egotism 4/8/2010
13. The World In The Heart 4/8/2010
14. Aims At Happiness 4/8/2010
15. Dirty Jim 4/8/2010
16. Teaching From The Stars 4/8/2010
17. Accomplishment 4/8/2010
18. A Pair 4/8/2010
19. Recreation 4/8/2010
20. A Town 4/8/2010
21. Poverty 5/11/2012
22. Finery 1/3/2003
23. Greedy Richard 1/3/2003
24. The Village Green 1/3/2003
25. The Apple-Tree 1/3/2003
26. The Holidays 1/3/2003
27. The Star 4/8/2010
28. Little Girls Must Not Fret 1/3/2003
29. Sleepy Harry 1/3/2003
30. The Disappointment 1/3/2003
31. Mischief 1/3/2003
32. The Spider 1/3/2003
33. The Good-Natured Girls 1/3/2003
34. The Orphan 1/3/2003
35. Come And Play In The Garden 1/3/2003
36. The Violet 1/3/2003

Comments about Jane Taylor

  • jane frances (2/16/2018 8:05:00 AM)

    how can i get the concerns of jane taylor in regards to this poem

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Daniela Dominguez (7/15/2007 4:22:00 PM)

    I wanted to know if you could post the star, and if you don't know it you could contact me.

  • Zoe Parkhouse (4/20/2005 4:35:00 PM)

    Jane Taylor died in 1824, she might have some trouble in contacting you! !

Best Poem of 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.

Read the full of The Violet

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.

[Report Error]