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CHARGE FOR THE GUNS !” he said :
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Was there a man dismayed ?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
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,
Volleyed and thundered ;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well ;
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sabreing the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered :
Plunged in the battery-smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke,
Shattered and sundered :
Then they rode back-but not,
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered ;
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?
Oh, the wild charge they made !
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble Six Hundred !


I am old and blind !
Men point at me as smitten by God's frown;
Afflicted and deserted of my kind,

Yet I am not cast down.

I am weak, yet strong;
I murmur not, that I no longer see;
Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong,

Father Supreme! to thee.

O merciful One! When men are farthest, then Thou are most near, When friends pass by, my weaknesses to shun,

Thy chariot I hear.

Thy glorious face
Is leaning toward me, and its holy light
Shines in upon my lonely dwelling-place-

And there is no more night.

On my bended knee,
I recognize Thy purpose, clearly shown;
My vision Thou hast dimmed, that I may see

Thyself, Thyself alone.

I have naught to fear;
This darkness is the shadow of Thy wing;
Beneath it I am almost sacred-here

Can come no evil thing.

0! I seem to stand Trembling, where foot of mortal ne'er hath been, Wrapped in the radiance from Thy sinless land,

Which eye hath never seen.

Visions come and go Shapes of resplendent beauty round me throng; From angel lips I seem to hear the flow

Of soft and holy song.

It is nothing now, When heaven is opening on my sightless eyesWhen airs from Paradise refresh my brow;

That earth in darkness lies.

In a purer clime, My being fills with rapture-waves of thought Roll in upon my spirit-strains sublime

Break over me unsought.

Give me now my lyre!
I feel the stirrings of a gift divine;
Within my bosom glows unearthly fire

Lit by no skill of mine.


(Anon.) I've been among the mighty Alps, and wandered thro'

their vales, And heard the honest mountaineers-rel te their dismal

tales, As round the cotters' blazing hearth, when their daily

work was o'er, They spake of those, who disappeared, and ne'er were

heard of more.

And there, I, from a shepherd, heard a narrative of

fear, A tale—to rend a mortal heart, which mothers-might

not hear; The tears—were standing in his eyes, his voice—was

tremulous ; But wiping all those tears away, he told his story thus : " It is among these barren cliffs—the ravenous vulture

dwells, Who never fattens on the prey, which from afar he

smells; But, patient, watching hour on hour, upon a lofty rock, He singles out some truant lamb, a victim, from the

flock. One cloudless Sabbath summer morn, the sun was rising

high, When, from my children on the green, I heard a fearful

cry, As if some awful deed were done, a shriek of grief, and

pain, A cry, I humbly trust in God, I ne'er may hear again. I hurried out to learn the cause ; but, overwhelmed

with fright, The children never ceased to shriek; and, from my

frenzied sight,

I missed the youngest of my babes, the darling of my

care ; But something caught my searching eyes, slow sailing

thro' the air.

Oh! what an awful spectacle—to meet a father's

eye,His infant-made a vulture's prey, with terror to

descry; And know, with agonizing heart, and with a maniac

rave, That earthly power—could not avail—that innocent to


My infant-stretched his little handsimploringly to

me, And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly to get

free: At intervals, I heard his cries, as loud he shrieked and

screamed ! Until, upon the azure sky, a lessening spot he seemed.

The vulture—flapped his sail-like wings, though hearily

he flew ; A mote, upon the sun's broad face, he seemed unto my

view ; But once, I thought I saw him stoop, as if he would

alight,'Twas only a delusive thought, for all had vanished


All search was vain, and years had passed; that child

was ne'er forgot, When once a daring hunter climbed unto a lofty spmx, From thence, upon a rugged crag—the chamois never

reached, He saw-an infant's fleshless bones—the elements had

bleached !

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