They sleep as well! and, roused from their wild grave,
Wearing their wounds like stars, shall rise again,
Joint-heirs with Christ, because they died to save
His weak ones, not in vain.

DOYLE.

XLV.

BATTLE OF THE ALMA.

THOUGH till now ungraced in story, scant although thy

waters be,

Alma, roll those waters proudly, proudly roll them to the sea.

Yesterday unnamed, unhonour'd, but to wandering Tartar known,

Now thou art a voice for ever to the world's four quarters blown.

In two nations' annals graven thou art now a deathless

name,

And a star for ever shining in their firmament of fame.

Many a great and ancient river, crown'd with city, tower, and shrine,

Little streamlet, knows no magic, boasts no potency like thine;

Cannot lend the light thou lendest to the memory of

the dead.

Cannot shed the light thou sheddest around many a living head;

Yea, nor all unsoothed their sorrow, who can, proudly mourning, say,

When the first strong burst of anguish shall have wept itself away

"He has past from us, the loved one, but he sleeps with them that died

By the Alma, at the winning of that terrible hill-side.”

Yes, and in the days far onward, when we all are calm as those,

Who beneath thy vines and willows on their hero-beds

repose,

Thou, on England's banner blazon'd with the famous fields of old,

Shalt, where other fields are winning, wave above the brave and bold:

And our sons unborn shall nerve them for some great deed to be done

By that twentieth of September, when the Alma's heights were won.

O thou river! dear for ever to the gallant, to the free, Alma, roll thy waters proudly, proudly roll them to the

sea.

TRENCH.

XLVI

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT

BRIGADE.

I.

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.

II.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the soldier knew

Some one had blunder'd:

Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,

Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

III.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to 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.

IV.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd 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 notNot the six hundred.

V.

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.

VI.

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 !

TENNYSON.

XLVII.

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.

WHENE'ER a noble deed is wrought,
Whene'er is spoke a noble thought,
Our hearts, in glad surprise,

To higher levels rise.

The tidal wave of deeper souls
Into our inmost being rolls,

And lifts us unawares

Out of all meaner cares.