Half a league, half a league
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Half a league onward,
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All in the valley of Death
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Rode the six hundred.
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"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
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"Charge for the guns!" he said:
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Into the valley of Death
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Rode the six hundred.
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"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
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Was there a man dismay'd?
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Not tho' the soldier knew
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Someone had blunder'd:
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Theirs not to make reply,
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Theirs not to reason why,
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Theirs but to do and die:
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Into the valley of Death
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Rode the six hundred.
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Cannon to right of them,
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Cannon to left of them,
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Cannon in front of them
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Volley'd and thunder'd;
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Storm'd at with shot and shell,
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Boldly they rode and well,
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Into the jaws of Death,
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Into the mouth of Hell
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Rode the six hundred.
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Flash'd all their sabres bare,
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Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
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Sabring the gunners there,
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Charging an army, while
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All the world wonder'd:
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Plunged in the battery-smoke
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Right thro' the line they broke;
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Cossack and Russian
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Reel'd from the sabre stroke
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Shatter'd and sunder'd.
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Then they rode back, but not
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Not the six hundred.
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Cannon to right of them,
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Cannon to left of them,
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Cannon behind them
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Volley'd and thunder'd;
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Storm'd at with shot and shell,
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While horse and hero fell,
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They that had fought so well
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Came thro' the jaws of Death
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Back from the mouth of Hell,
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Back from the mouth of Hell,
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Left of six hundred.
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When can their glory fade?
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O the wild charge they made!
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All the world wondered.
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Honor the charge they made,
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Honor the Light Brigade,
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Noble six hundred.
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