|Genre Categories||; ;; ; ;|
|Work Title||Little Red Riding Hood|
|Composer||Glover, Stephen Ralph|
|I-Catalogue NumberI-Cat. No.||ISG 41|
|Average DurationAvg. Duration||7 minutes|
|Composer Time PeriodComp. Period||Romantic|
|Instrumentation||Voice and Piano|
These are the lyrics:
“Get up, my dear child, ‘tis a beautiful day, Yet here you lie sleeping the sunshine away; Your Grand mamma’s ill, and I wish you to take This pot of fresh butter, this nice oaten cake; You’ll breakfast with her, so your journey begins, Make haste to her cot, lift the latch and walk in. If gossips you meet, give a curtsey and say, “You’ve business to mind, and you can’t stop to play. You’ve business to mind, and you can’t stop to play.”
As merry as a cricket, with her basket on her arm, The little girl, Red Riding Hood, went bounding from the farm; Down hill, and o’er the meadow, thru the greenwood and the glade. There never was a better, or a happier little maid; But well-a-day, ah! well-a-day, there was a field close by Where buttercups and daisies looked so charming to the eye, That she forgot her mother’s wish the Grand mamma she loved, And like a little, idle girl among the flowers roved.
When once we lose sight of our duty, We never know how it may end. There’s always some Wolf in sheep’s clothing, Some foe in the garb of a friend. So ‘twas with poor Red Riding Hood, She told the Wolf her tale: How she was sent, with basket stored, To pleasant Holly-Dale; And how her Grand mamma was ill, What dainties she had got; How anyone might lift the latch And walk in to her cot.
They chatted together and laughed by the way, Till suddenly starting, he wished her “good day.” She was holding a buttercup close to her chin When he bounded away with a nod and a grin. Now he had been watching for many a day, Prowling and growling in search of his prey. “Ho! Ho!” growled he “What a feast shall be mine. I’ve fasted long but today I’ll dine.” “What beautiful flowers, what beautiful flow’rs, I’ll gather just one garland more.” She loitered about but the Wolf galloped on Till he came to her Grand mamma’s door.
Knock! Knock! “Who’s there?” “Good Granny I’m here.” “Pull the bobbin” “Pull the bobbin. The latch will go up, my dear!” In! In! the Wolf was pitiless. He gave a savage roar. A scream, and all was over soon, For never spoke she more. The Wolf dressed himself in Gran’s nightcap and gown, And in the bed stealthily laid himself down. Knock! Knock! “Who’s there?” “It’s I Granny, Granny dear.” “Pull the bobbin, come in. I’ve been waiting; I’ve been waiting [for] you here.”
“Dear Grand mamma, I’ve come at last. I’ll pull the curtain up, And show you these bright daisies and this lovely buttercup.” “No! no! I cannot bear the light, undress and come to bed.” Cried out the Wolf; She little thought her Grand mamma was dead.
Red Riding Hood fell fast asleep, for she was very tired, The Wolf had eaten just before as much as he desired; And so he let her sleep until he hungry grew again, Then hugging her, she woke at last and cried out with the pain, “How rough and long your arms have grown!” “The better to enfold you” “How big your eyes are and how bright!” “The better to behold you.” “What great long ears!” “Yes they were made that I may better hear.” “What frightful teeth you’ve got.” “They were made, they were made to eat you up, my dear.”
It was no sooner said than done; Oh! Bitter, bitter fate! She thought of all her Mother’s words. She thought of all her Mother’s words. Alas! Alas! Alas! It was too late. But now a noise, a noise was heard. The Wolf with stronger foes contends, And he was killed as he deserved And there the story ends, And there the story ends, And there the story ends.