Poem by Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta

Little Red Riding Hood

"Heaven lies about us in our infancy."

Sweet child of fairy land! since first
  I dwelt, with tearful eye,
Upon the page that tells thy tale,
  Long years have glided by.

Then, in thy fabled history,
  No marvel could I see;
For then the worlds of thought and sense
  Were fairy lands to me.

The fields and meadows were as bright
  As those where thou didst stray; --
And gaily through their tangled flowers,
  Like thee I took my way.

And while I walked that sunny path,
  Nor doubt nor fear was mine;
For childhood's trustfulness and faith
  Are ever strong, like thine.

Alas! that coming years should throw
  Dark shadows o'er our way;
And leave us with this aching sense
  Of glory passed away.

1. Evening Hymn
2. The Battle of Life
3. Cheney
4. On a Picture of Harvey Birch

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