Georgetown weekly news., 1855-05-10
BalakEava.
BY ALEXANDER SMITH.

Balal6lava.
BY ALEXANDER SMITH.
Oh the charge at Balaklava!
Oh that rash and fatal charge
Never was a fiercer. braver,
Than that charge at Balaklava,
On the battles bloody marge!
All the day the Russian columns,
Fortress huge, and blazing banks,
Poured their dread destructive volumes
On the French and English ranks
On the gallant allied ranks
Earth and sky seemed rent asunder
By the loud incessant thunder
When strange but stern command
Needless, needless, rash command
Came to Lucan's little band
Scarce six hundred men and horses
of those vast contending forces
"EngIand's lost unless you save her,
Charge the pass at Balaklava"
oh that rash aud fatal charge,
On the battles bloody marge!
Far away the Russian Eagles
Soar DER smoking hill and dell,
And their hordes, like bowling beagles,
Dense and countless, round them yell
laundering cannon, deadly mortar,
Sweep the field in every quarter!
Never, since the days OF Jesus,
Trem0led so the Cheronesus /!
Here behold the Gallo Lillies,-
Stout St. Louis golden LilIies
Float as erst at old Families
And beside them, 10 the Lion!
With her trnphied Cross, is flying!
Glorious standards shall they waver
On the field of Bllaklava?
No. by heavens at that command
Sudden, rash, but stern command
Charges Lucan's little band!
Brave six hundred 10 they charge
On the battles bloody marge!
Down yon deep and skirted valley,
Where the crowded canon play
Where the Cars fierce cohorts rally
Cossack, Calmuck, savage KALI
Down that george they swept away!
Down that new Thermopla,
Flashing swords and helmets see!
Underneath the iron shower,
To the brazen cannon's jaws,
Needless of their deadly power,
Press they without fear or pause
To the very cannon's jaws,
Gallant Nolan, brave as Roland
At the field of Roncessvalies,
Dashes down the fatal valley,
Dashes on the bolt of death,
Shouting with his latest breath,
Charge, then, gallants ! do not wayer,
Charge the pass at Bdlaklava y
Oh, that rash and fatal charge,
On the battles bloody marge!
Now the bolts of volleyed thunder,
Rend that little band assunder,
Steed and rider wildly, screaming,
Screaming wildly, sink away!
bate so proudly, proudly cleaning,
Now but lifeless clods of clay
Now but bleeding clods of clay!
Never, since the days OF Jesus,
Saw such sight the Chersonesus
Yet your remnant, brave Six Hundred,
Presses onward, onward, onward
TIL they storm the bloody pass
Till, like brave Leonidas,
Rhey storm the deadly pass
Sab'ring Cossack, Cdlmack, Kali,
In that wild shot-rended valley
Drenched with fire and blood, like lava,
Awful pass at Balaklava
Oh, that rash and fatal charge,
On that battles bloody margel
For now Russia's rallied forces.
Swarming hordes Of Cossack horses,
Trampling DER the reeking corses,
Drive the thinned assailants back,
Drive the feeble remnant hack!
Ger their late heroic track!
Vain, alas now rent and sundered,
Vain your struggles, brave Two Hundred
Thrice your nunaber lie asleep,
In that valley dark and deep,
Weak and wounded you retire
From that hurricane of fire
That tempetaous storm of fire.
Bat no soldiers, firmer, braver,
Ever trod the field of fame,
Than the Knights of Balaklava-
Honor to each hero's name!
Yet their country long shall mourn
For her ranks so rashly shorn,
So gallantly, but madly shorn
In that fierce and fatal charge,
On the battles bloody marge.
A