The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league,Half a league onward,All in the valley of DeathRode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knewSome one had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die:Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of themVolley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of HellRode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabers bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in airSab'ring the gunners there,Charging an army, whileAll the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the saber-strokeShatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind themVolleyed and thundered:Stormed at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame through the jaws of deathBack from the mouth of hell,All that was left of them—Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?Oh, the wild charge they made!All the world wondered.Honour the charge they made!Honour the Light Brigade—Noble six hundred!