National Poetry Month - Charge Of The Light Brigade

April is rapidly drawing to a close, so I thought I'd better catch up with my contributions to National Poetry Month. I thought it was a great opportunity for the kids to each learn a classic poem. Grace did Daffodils, and Erik chose (or rather had chosen for him) Alfred, Lorn Tennyson's Charge of  the Light Brigade, incidentally one of the first poems I ever remember being awed by.

Apparently that bloodthirstyness is a family trait. Erik loved this poem, and was interested enough to learn more about the Battle of Balaclava as well. So good for me, combining history and poetry in one fell swoop.
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Charge Of The Light Brigade
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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.
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'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
     Some one 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.
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Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the 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.
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Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turned 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.
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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.
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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!