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"The Charge Of The Light
Brigade"
by Alfred Lord Tennyson.
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.
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.
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 not,
Not the six hundred.
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.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All
the world wonder’d.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
"Less of Me" is actually a song, recorded by several artists. I love the lyrics.
They fit my personal philosophy. I want to help make this world a better place, by being kinder, more tolerant, etc.
The lyrical content is what makes this one of my favorite poems.
“Less of Me”
Author Unknown
Let me be a little kinder,
Let me be a little blinder,
To
the faults of those about me
Let me praise a little more.
Let me be when I am weary,
Just a little bit more cheery,
Think
a little more of others
And a little less of me.
Let me be a little braver,
When temptation bids me waiver,
Let
me strive a little harder,
To be all that I should be.
Let me be a little meeker
With my brother who is weaker,
Think
a little more of others
And a little less of me.
Let me be when I am weary,
Just a little bit more cheery,
Let
me serve a little better
Those that I am striving for.
Let me be a little meeker
With my brother who is weaker.
Think
a little more of others
And a little less of me.
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"Seven Ages Of Man"
by William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely
players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then, the whiling schoolboy with his satchel
And shining
morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Madew
to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden,
and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice
In fair round
belly, with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And
so he plays his part.
The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch
on side,
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide,
Fir his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again
towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is
second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything,
This is another offering that will never be considered a classic. It could probably
be considered more of a song than a poem, but it's humorous, tongue-in-cheek and very irreverent. I love it. I
hope readers will enjoy it, also.
Sing this song to the tune of: "If You're Happy And
You Know It Clap Your Hands"
"BOMB IRAQ"
-
Auther Unkown
If we cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets hurt your
Mama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are Saudi
And the bank takes back your Audi
And the TV shows are bawdy, Bomb
Iraq.
If the corporate scandals growin', bomb Iraq.
And your ties
to them are showin', bomb Iraq.
If the smoking gun ain't smokin'
We don't care, and we're not jokin'.
That Saddam
will soon be croakin', Bomb Iraq.
Even if we have no allies, bomb Iraq.
From the sand dunes
to the valleys, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections;
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind
and take directions, Bomb Iraq.
While the globe is slowly warming, bomb Iraq.
Yay! the clouds
of war are storming, bomb Iraq.
If the ozone hole is growing,
Some things we prefer not knowing.
(Though our ignorance
is showing), Bomb Iraq.
So here's one for dear old daddy, bomb Iraq,
From his favorite
little laddy, bomb Iraq.
Saying no would look like treason.
It's the Hussein hunting season.
Even if we have no
reason, Bomb Iraq.
It’s-all about-the-Oil-ly,
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