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 though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
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;

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Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

III. Flashed all their sabres bare,

they turned in air

Flashed as th

Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while

All the world wondered:'
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through 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 behind them

Volleyed and thundered:
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came through 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.

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1854

Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred!

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Lord Tennyson.

THE CHARGE OF THE HEAVY
BRIGADE AT BALACLAVA

OCTOBER 25, 1854

THE charge of the gallant three hundred, the
Heavy Brigade!

Down the hill, down the hill, thousands of
Russians,

Thousands of horsemen, drew to the valley

and stay'd;

For Scarlett and Scarlett's three hundred were riding by

When the points of the Russian lances arose in

the sky;

And he call'd "Left wheel into line!" and they wheel'd and obey'd.

Then he look'd at the host that had halted he

knew not why,

And he turn'd half round, and he bade his

trumpeter sound

To the charge, and he rode on ahead, as he

waved his blade

To the gallant three hundred whose glory will never die

"Follow," and up the hill, up the hill, up the hill, Follow'd the Heavy Brigade.

The trumpet, the gallop, the charge, and the might of the fight!

Thousands of horsemen had gather'd there on the height,

With a wing push'd out to the left and a

wing to the right,

And who shall escape if they close? but he
dashed up alone

Thro' the great gray slope of men,
Sway'd his sabre, and held his own
Like an Englishman there and then;
All in a moment follow'd with force
Three that were next in their fiery course,

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Wedged themselves in between horse and horse, Fought for their lives in the narrow gap they had made

Four amid thousands! and up the hill, up the

hill,

Gallopt the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade.

Fell like a cannonshot,
Burst like a thunderbolt,

Crash'd like a hurricane,

Broke thro' the mass from below,
Drove thro' the midst of the foe,
Plunged up and down, to and fro,
Rode flashing blow upon blow,

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Brave Inniskillens and Greys

Whirling their sabres in circles of light!
And some of us, all in amaze,

Who were held for a while from the fight,
And were only standing at gaze,

When the dark-muffled Russian crowd

Folded its wings from the left and the right,
And roll'd them around like a cloud,-

O mad for the charge and the battle were we,
When our own good redcoats sank from sight,
Like drops of blood in a dark-gray sea,

And we turn'd to each other, whispering, all

dismay'd,

'Lost are the gallant three hundred of Scarlett's Brigade!"

Lost one and all were the words
Mutter'd in our dismay;

But they rode like Victors and Lords
Thro' the forest of lances and swords
In the heart of the Russian hordes,
They rode, or they stood at bay-
Struck with the sword-hand and slew,
Down with the bridle-hand drew
The foe from the saddle and threw
Underfoot there in the fray-

Ranged like a storm or stood like a rock
In the wave of a stormy day;
Till suddenly shock upon shock
Stagger'd the mass from without,
Drove it in wild disarray,

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