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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.

poem by Lewis Carroll
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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