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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Left And Right Either side the cannons roar Took of blood and wanted more Salvo after salvo into the valley Point blank range to deter the rally Water poured over steaming muzzles Russian gunner at this sight puzzles Tis madness against this cannonade Tis the sacrifice of the Light Brigade The quicker they fired the faster they came Under billowing flags and the Queens name Torn and shredded they carried the fight And many a soul, never saw that night The Redout The Russian generals looked in wonder Stood in awe at the total squander The cannons barked and took their toll Removing horse from man, man from soul Rifle, cannon, spoke the same The Light Brigade on they came Thundering hooves and yelling cries All for the sight of the Russians eyes And at the distance of a lance The Russian soldier in a trance Sabres cut and slashed in violence All was death in the cannons silence The Russians fled in disbelief Last shot fired to the Brigades relief Bleeding soldiers and tattered flags Stumbled, tottered, like wizened hags Down The Valley Looking back along that mile Bodies, horses, pile on pile Wounded men lean on lance Said a prayer in skyward glance On the ground a sleeping parade Remnants of the Light Brigade Depleted souls but not of honour Yet a picture of battles squander On the conclusion of this battle Fingers wag and tongues will rattle But nought should be put to shame The Light Brigade and its day of fame At Night When the moon shines that longest mile Hear the hooves on lush green pile The rattling sabres and rippling flags And how he rode the horseman brags In the night the ghosts they ride Full of honour and full of pride
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