And from the path she stray’d away, and pick’d a thousand flowers;
And all the birds did welcome her within their leafy bowers.
But, as it so fell out, a wolf was basking in the grass,
And soon with his sharp hazel eyes espied the little lass.
And then he trotted up to her, and right before her stood:
How do you do, my dear? said he; what brings you to my wood?
Now though his coat was very rough, his words were soft and kind;
And not a single thought of fear e’er cross’d her simple mind.
And so she freely said,—I go to see my Granny, Sir,
Who lives in yonder village in the cottage near the fir.