The Story of a Soldier

Sabre held above my head high,

I was just ready to fly,

I charged at the Russian lines,

I could not mistake the signs,

Into the battery-smoke we charged,

Alas, into the battery-smoke.

The Cossacks fired their guns upon us,

Kept firing only with all their will and must,

We howled at the men who were to kill me and mine,

And so they could not keep line,

Into the battery-smoke we charged,

Alas, into the battery-smoke.

Cecil, my friend, was thrown from his horse,

As I bathed my sword in blood, I felt no remorse,

The grey-coated men fell back,

Though not for trying lack,

Into the battery-smoke we charged,

Alas, into the battery-smoke.

When all was said and done, or so we thought,

But we were in no state to be fought,

And the grey-coats had turned from their rout,

And so we had to flout,

Into the battery-smoke we charged,

Alas, into the battery-smoke.