Alfred, Lord Tennyson calls the Poetry Crisis Line

PATIENCE (counselor): Poetry Crisis Line, what is your emergency?
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON (caller): Theirs not to make reply,
PATIENCE: If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help.
TENNYSON: Theirs not to reason why,
PATIENCE: So you don’t want me to figure out what’s wrong?
TENNYSON: Theirs but to do and die.
PATIENCE: If someone’s in danger I can send help if you share your location.
TENNYSON: Into the valley of death
PATIENCE: Death Valley? The national park?
TENNYSON: rode the six hundred.
PATIENCE: Right. I can request a specific ambulance but you’ll probably get whatever’s closest.

If All Poems Were Limericks: The Charge of the Light Brigade

Happy 211th birthday to Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

If All Poems Were Limericks:
The Charge of the Light Brigade
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It isn’t our job to ask why
or make any other reply.
We do as we’re told
and it never gets old
if, after we do it, we die.