The Charge of the Lightweight Brigade

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Half a pint, half a pint,

Half a pint onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six flatmates.

‘Forward, the Lightweight Brigade!

Charge for the shots’ he said:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six flatmates.

 

‘Forward, the Lightweight Brigade!’

Was there a man dismay’d?

Not tho’ the freshers knew

Some one had chunder’d:

Their’s not to make reply,

Their’s not to reason why,

Their’s but to drink and die:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six flatmates.

 

Tequila to right of them,

Soco to left of them,

Vodka in front of them

Volley’d and chunder’d;

Storm’d at with shot and yell,

Boldly they drank and fell,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six flatmates.

 

Flash’d all their glasses bare,

Flash’d as they turned in air

Sabring the freshers there,

Charging a local while

All the world wonder’d:

Plunged in the drunken-haze

Stumbling thro’ streets for days;

White and Black Russian

Reel’d from forgotten lays

Shatter’d and chunder’d.

Then they rode back, but not

Not the six flatmates.

 

Tequila to right of them,

Soco to left of them,

Vodka behind them

Volley’d and chunder’d;

Storm’d at with shot and yell,

While brother and sister fell,

They that had drunk so well

Came thro’ the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six flatmates.

 

When can their hangovers fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder’d.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Lightweight Brigade,

Noble six flatmates!

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