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 dismayd?
Not tho the soldier knew
Some one had blunderd:
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.
III
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyd and thunderd;
Stormd 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
Flashd all their sabres bare,
Flashd as they turnd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonderd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeld from the sabre-stroke
Shatterd and sunderd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
V
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyd and thunderd;
Stormd 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 wonderd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
~ The Charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1854)
"The oranges are dry; the apples are mealy; and the papayas... I don't know what's going on with the papayas!"