The Charge Of The Bread Brigade
Half a loaf, half a loaf,
Half a loaf? Urn-hum?
Down through the vale of gloom
Slouched the ten million,
Onward th' 'ungry blokes,
Crackin' their smutty jokes!
We'll send 'em mouchin' 'ome,
Damn the ten million!
There goes the night brigade,
They got no steady trade,
Several old so'jers know
Monty has blunder'd.
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to buy the pie,
Slouching and mouching,
Lousy ten million!
Plenty to right of 'em,
Plenty to left of 'em,
Yes, wot is left of 'em,
Damn the ten million.
Stormed at by press and all,
How shall we dress 'em all?
Glooming and mouching!
See 'em go slouching there,
With cowed and crouching air
How the whole nation shook
While Milord Beaverbrook
Fed 'em with hogwash!
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Comments about this poem (The Charge Of The Bread Brigade by Ezra Pound )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(22 February 1892 – 19 October 1950)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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