Remorse was deep and heavy oer the valley of the dead
Many men were laying still, their tunics now bright red
Brave souls fought their enemy, with bayonet, lance and gun
But yet they won the day, and saw the enemy all run.

With great cannons to the front, and many more either side
Ever onward rode the stalwarts: Ride then soldier ride!
Bugler no more than fifteen years old, sounded loud and clear
The regimental lancers charge, there was no time to fear.

The crying of the horses, and screaming of wounded men
Already killed or dying, two hundred souls and ten
Still mighty cannons roared, and shrapnel filled the air
But onwards rode the troops; only victory was their care.

Under the guns rode men of courage, success in their grip
And with lance and steel sabre, they began to hack and rip
Long into realms of history, this story has been told
When into the valley of death, there rode six hundred bold.

Who gave that order to charge? It sent many to their death
No one will really know, for he took his final breath
He died a hero on the field, with lance held true and blue
And even more he died so brave, and just for me and you.