II

The trumpet, the gallop, the charge, and the might of the fight!

Thousands of horsemen had gather'd there on the height,

With a wing push'd out to the left, and a wing to the right,

And who shall escape if they close? but he dash'd up alone

Thro' the great gray slope of men,

Sway'd his sabre, and held his own

Like an Englishman there and then;

All in a moment follow'd with force

Three that were next in their fiery course,

Wedged themselves in between horse and horse,

Fought for their lives in the narrow gap they had made–

Four amid thousands! and up the hill, up the hill,

Gallopt the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade.