Cannon to Right of Them, Cannon to Left of Them

Lord Alfred Tennyson was one of the most celebrated poets of the Victorian Era and one of my favorite poets of all time. He had a tumultuous childhood and adolescence for someone with such a noble pedigree, and his body of work reflects a tormented soul.

His poetry was widely read and at times Tennyson earned over 10,000£ a year. Any contemporary poet would love to earn that much in today’s economy. One of my favorite poems by Tennyson was “The Charge of the Light Brigade”. It was released on October 25th, 1854 and it focuses on the heroic deeds of Lord James Cardigan during the Crimean War. Since then, this poem has held significance for members of the armed forces around the world.

Join me as I revisit this legendary poem:

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 soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
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.

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.

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.

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 wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

The Charge of The Light Brigade
The Charge of The Light Brigade
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