A gallery of famous English and American poets . ed. Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in fiont of them Volleyed and thundered ;Stormed at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of the mouth of Hell, Rode the six hundred. >24 TENNYSOK. 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-smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReeled from the sabre-stroke Shattered and they rode back, but not— Not the six
A gallery of famous English and American poets . ed. Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in fiont of them Volleyed and thundered ;Stormed at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of the mouth of Hell, Rode the six hundred. >24 TENNYSOK. 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-smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReeled from the sabre-stroke Shattered and they rode back, but not— Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of to left of behind them, Volleyed and thundered;Stormed at with shot and horse and hero that had fought so wellCame 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?0 the wild charge they made! All the world the charge they made!Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! THE BELLE OF THE BALL. Years, years ago, ere yet my dreamsHad been of being wise or witty. 82 325 326 PEAED. Ere I had done with writing themes,Or yawned oer this infernal Chitty. Years, years ago, while all my joyWas in my fowling-piece and filly— In short, while I was yet a boy—I fell in love with Laura Lilly. I saw her at the county ball; There, when the sounds of flute and fiddleGave signal sweet in that old hall Of hands across and down the was the subtlest spell by far Of all that set young hearts romancing:She was our queen, our rose, our star; And when she danced—0 Heaven ! her dancing. Dark was her hair; her hand was white; Her voice was exquisitely tender;Her eyes were full of liquid light; I never saw a waist so slender;Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows;I thougfht twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she left her sparrows. She talked of politics or prayers, Of Sou
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksu, booksubjectenglishpoetry
