Poem - The Charge of the Light Brigade

Sep 21, 2001 - © Alfred Lord Tennyson




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 dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
Someone had blunder'd;
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do or die.
Into the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.


Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell
Boldly they fought and well.
Into the jaws of death
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.


Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turned in air
Sabr'ing the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder'd.
Plunged in the battery's smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back but
Not the six hundred.


Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd.
Storm'd 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 will their glory fade?
O wild charge they made,
All the world wonder'd!
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade!
Noble six hundred!


(I know it's corny, but it still brings a lump to my throat every time I read it!!! - JB)

The copyright of the article Poem - The Charge of the Light Brigade in Crimean War is owned by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Permission to republish Poem - The Charge of the Light Brigade in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.

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