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I.
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.
II.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Some one had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and
die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six
hundred.
III.
Cannon to right 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.
IV.
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 battery-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
Not the six hundred.
V.
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.
VI.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge
they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honour the
charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble
six hundred!
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