THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the Valley of Death

     Rode the six hundred.

"Forward; the Light Brigade!

 Charge for the guns!" he said;

 Into the Valley of Death

       Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"

Was there a man dismayed?

 Not tho' the soldier knew

       Someone had blundered;

Theirs not to make reply.

Theirs but to do and die;

Into the Valley of Death

       Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

         Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

Boldly they rode and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

          Rode the six hundred

Flashed all their sabres bare,

Flashed as they turned in air,

Sab’ring the gunners there,

Charging an army, while

      All the world wondered;

Plunged in the battery smoke

Right thro' the line they broke.

Cossack and Russian

Reeled from the sabre stroke

       Shattered and sundered;

Then they rode back, but not,

       Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

        Volleyed and thundered;

 Stormed ,at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came thro' the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

       Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O, the wild charge they made.

        All the world wondered.

Honor the charge they made,

Honor the Light Brigade,

            Noble six hundred!

                   Alfred Tennyson.