Arguably Tennyson's most popular poem, 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' had become so widely known and celebrated not only owing to the shocking subject matter of the poem, namely a breakdown in communications within the British Army's chain of command that resulted in great and unnecessary loss of life, but also thanks to how memorable the poem is. This is achieved amongst other things by the repetition of words and phrases, which, apart from their rhythmic function, make the poem easier to remember.
The poet chooses to emphasise telling details by repeating them, such as the number of soldiers participating in the charge (six hundred), or the distance they were tasked to cross under peril (half a league). By repeating certain evocative words and phrases he is able to generate a feeling of dread (valley of Death, mouth of Hell, canon).
Another role played by repetition is the suspense of action, a technique known in literary depictions of armed struggle since Homer, who applied it extensively in the Iliad. Tennyson, no doubt consciously emulating the same elegiac style of poetry, suspends the narrative by re-uttering phrases (Stormed at with shot and shell, All the world wondered), (note also the alteration) forcing the listener to focus their imagination on a certain event for for longer than they would otherwise.
Finally, familiarising the audience with certain phrases generates in them a set of expectations with which the poet is then able to play, such as when the familiar refrain of 'Rode the six hundred' is substituted with a telling 'Not the six hundred... Left of six hundred', pressing home the tragic loss of life and the glory of the departed.
Repetition is a simple tool and yet it requires skill to be employed to great effect, something Tennyson I think achieved in this, his most recognisable poem.
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.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
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 sabers bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sab'ring 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 saber-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
Volleyed and thundered:
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came through 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?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade—
Noble six hundred!
