RED RIDING-HOOD

 

Into the wood - the dark, dark wood -

Forth went the happy child;

And, in its stillest solitude,

Talked to herself, and smiled;

And closer drew the scarlet Hood

About her ringlets wild.

 

And now at last she threads the maze,

And now she need not fear;

Frowning, she meets the sudden blaze

Of moonlight falling clear;

Nor trembles she, nor turns, nor stays,

Although the Wolf be near.