Poetry Class

The Charge of The Light Brigade is my family's poem of the month! We started studying it today and I learned that the poem was written after the Battle of Balaclava in 1854. The Charge of The Light Brigade is about the British Light Cleverly Brigade as their infantry of 670 men valiantly rode into the "Valley of Death" in an effort to hinder the Russian guns from moving forward. The Brigade accomplished their goal, but not without a price. Just over 100 men came "back from the mouth of Hell".
There are many possible reasons why the brigade would attempt such a seemingly impossible task, and several will argue whether the action was good or bad. There are also several different applications of the poem. It  can be compared to the christian life as they journey through this sin cursed world, or to the life of a young person trying to survive puberty, or a modern day soldier defending his country and what she stands for, or it could apply to an individual experiencing a very difficult period of time in their life. However you want to look at it, remember, the Light Brigade won the victory, but not without a cost.

          The Charge of The Light Brigade

  

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 new

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 the right of them,

Cannon to the left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volley'd and thundered;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

Boldly the rode and well,

 Into the jaws of death,

Into mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare'

Flashed as they turned in air,

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army, while

All the world wondered:

Plunged in the battery smoke

Right through the lines they broke;

Cossack and Russian

Reel'd from the sabre stroke

Shattered and sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not,

Not the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,

Cannon to the left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came through 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.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred.

By--Alfred Lord Tennyson