They must look sharp about it!” says Albert of Wales.
“It is rather slow work, this,” then Albert said he.
“And to stand and do nothing will hardly suit me.
At the side of yon hill, where those clouds of smoke hang,
Are the enemy’s cannon—hark! there they go—Bang!
Let us try to surprise them—a rush seldom fails:
Balaclava the Second!” shouts Albert of Wales.
With a crash and a waving of sabres in air,
Down they swoop on the gunners—and how these last stare!
But although they are startled, not one of them runs: