Poems

Greedy Richard

Jane Taylor 1783 – 1824
 
“I think I want some pies this morning,”
Said Dick, stretching himself and yawning;
So down he threw his slate and books,
And saunter’d to the pastry-cook’s.

And there he cast his greedy eyes
Round on the jellies and the pies,
So to select, with anxious care,
The very nicest that was there.

At last the point was thus decided:
As his opinion was divided
‘Twixt pie and jelly, being loth
Either to leave, he took them both.

Now Richard never could be pleased
To stop when hunger was appeased,
But would go on to eat still more
When he had had an ample store.

“No, not another now,” said Dick;
“Dear me, I feel extremely sick:
I cannot even eat this bit;
I wish I had not tasted it. “

Then slowing rising from his seat,
He threw his cheesecake in the street,
And left the tempting pastry-cook’s
With very discontented looks.

Just then a man with wooden leg
Met Dick, and held his hat to beg;
And while he told his mournful case,
Look’d at him with imploring face.

Dick, wishing to relieve his pain,
His pockets search’d, but search’d in vain;
And so at last he did declare,
He had not left a farthing there.

The beggar turn’d with face of grief,
And look of patient unbelief,
While Richard now his folly blamed,
And felt both sorry and ashamed.

“I wish,” said he (but wishing’s vain),
“I had my money back again,
And had not spent my last, to pay
For what I only threw away.

“Another time, I’ll take advice,
And not buy things because they’re nice;
But rather save my little store,
To give to those who want it more.”

Jane Taylor (23 September 1783 – 13 April 1824) was an English poet and novelist best known for the lyrics of the widely known “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star“. The sisters Jane and Ann Taylor and their authorship of various works have often been confused, partly because their early ones were published together. Ann Taylor’s son, Josiah Gilbert, wrote in her biography, “Two little poems – ‘My Mother’, and ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little Star’ – are perhaps more frequently quoted than any; the first, a lyric of life, was by Ann, the second, of nature, by Jane; and they illustrate this difference between the sisters.”

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