by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Half a league, half a league, Charging an army, while Half a league onward, All the world wonder'd. All in the Plunged in the Rode the six hundred. Right thro' the line they broke; "Forward the Light Brigade! Cossack and Russian Charge for the guns!" he said. Reel'd from the sabre-stroke Into the Shatter'd and sunder'd. Rode the six hundred. Then they rode back, but not, Forward, the Light Brigade!" Not the six hundred. Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Cannon to right of them, Some one had blunder'd. Cannon to left of them, Theirs not to make reply, Cannon behind them Theirs not to reason why, Volley'd and thunder'd; Theirs but to do and die. Storm'd at with shot and shell, Into the While horse and hero fell, Rode the six hundred. They that had fought so well Cannon to of them, Came thro' the jaws of Death, Cannon to left of them, Back from the mouth of hell, Cannon in front of them All that was left of them, Volley'd and thunder'd; Left of six hundred. Storm'd at with shot and shell, When can their glory fade? Boldly they rode and well, O the wild charge they made! Into the jaws of Death, All the world wonder'd. Into the mouth of hell Honor the charge they made! Rode the six hundred. Honor the Light Brigade, Flash'd all their sabres bare, Noble six hundred! Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there,
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the Rode the six hundred. "Forward the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!" he said. Into the Rode the six hundred. Forward, the Light Brigade!" Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the Rode the six hundred. Cannon to of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'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 hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd. Plunged in the 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, Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to 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 can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonder'd. Honor the charge they made! Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!
Blind_Side.docx